Having your mom drive across the country with you means a couple of things. It means that when you get pulled over by the local law enforcement, you get that disapproving look like when you were 13 and you "accidentally" used an M-80 to blow up that Tonka truck that you have had since you were 4 (you didn't really need it anymore anyway.) It means that instead of sleeping at rest stops, you now stay at the Days Inn. It means that you have a cooler full of fresh fruit, cold bottled beverages and cookies. It means that you keep the average speed of travel to double digits. It means that you opt for James Taylor and hide your Tool collection. It also, means that you stop and pay attention to the world because this is no longer a method of getting from A to ZZ, this is now a quasi-vacation. Thus impromptu, we ventured into unknown territory because the highway sign drew us in and we just couldn't help ourselves. It was by this procedure that we encountered the Wigwam Hotel, whose very inviting billboard queried: "Have You Slept in a Wigwam Lately." I looked at her and inquired if she had. She shook her head. It had been a long time for me as well. But we were too early in the day to nestle into our nightly accommodations so we reluctantly and somewhat remorsefully passed on the invitation and continued our journey.
2 comments:
I love you and I loved every minute (even in the wee hours) of our road trip! You didn't mention the second visit in a patrol car! Mom
What second visit in what patrol car? I plead the fifth.
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