Are We There Yet?

Okay, it occurred to me this morning that I committed the ultimate vacationer's faux pas. I subjected you all to my album. "Here, want to see pictures of our trip? I've got all 79 rolls of film developed." (Remember the days of rolls of film? Thank goodness we're over that.)

So since I've gone and done the unspoken atrocity, I may as well complete the random act of vacation vandalism and regale you with a boring story. We thought it was just hysterical and still laugh like loons, but I fear it was one of those "you just had to be there" moments. In reality, I'm telling it here so that we never forget it. This is, after all, a documentation of our family's adventures. I just happen to share it with the entire world. Consider yourselves warned.



So I mentioned that we rented a truck for lack of an available mini van. Sam pretended to be nonchalent about the whole thing, and even a bit apologetic to me over the fact, but we all know that he loved every second of it. Well, maybe not the door-sized Enterprise sticker on either side of the truck. That part we could have done without. But the truck meant that half of us had to sit up front and the other half in the back. The kids took turns riding between mom and dad. When it was Luke's turn he discovered the GPS within seconds. He's a have-to-know kind of kid and asked what every single thing meant. It was all very fascinating to him. As in VERY fascinating.

"So you mean that we've got 32 miles to go to the Grand Canyon? And that we'll be there at 12:54?"

And then it started. He'd occasionally lift his head and look out the window at the scenery whizzing by. Once he even forgot about the GPS quietly doing it's thing and let 2.3 miles slip by unnoticed.

What makes us laugh so hard is knowing that he's so much like my dad. Bless his heart, my dad reverts back to being a 7 year old boy when he gets new toys like that. I could totally see my dad ticking off the miles audibly, and adjusting the Estimated Time of Arrival every time he has to brake, or the speed limit raises. And my dad would totally forget how to navigate on his own because of the dependence he would place on the box on the dash. "Carol, how do you get to Wal-Mart? There's construction and the GPS isn't recognizing it!" Not really, my dad is blessed with an incredible amount of common sense and direction, but you get the picture of what he'd be like. And Luke couldn't have been more like Pappy with his fascination with the piece of modern technology.

So every mile we got an update of how long we had to drive and when we would arrive. It got even more exciting when we were within 10 miles of the park. It started giving tenths of miles as well and you cannot believe how exciting it was to count down so quickly. Luke would ask us not to ask him when we would arrive, which of course prompted someone to say "Luke, what is the Estimated Time of Arrival?" He'd roll his eyes while grinning from ear to ear and proudly pronounce the proclaimed time.

If I knew the fascination wouldn't wear off, I'm thinking that a GPS would be a great gift for him for road trips. Too bad they're so darn expensive.