I See Brakelights

My dad graciously did all the driving as we undertook a 250km/155mi road trip to Kassel, Germany for Game One of the playoffs. Despite some inclement weather on the way there, the trip was short and uneventful. The ride home, however, was not as simple (is it ever?). Rain, traffic, and more rain induced traffic turned our two hour drive into a little over four. Remember family road trips from your youth? You might have painted them over with memories of sing-a-longs and Snack Packs, but there was undoubtedly some bickering, heavy sighing and threats to pull-this-car-over-right-now-young-lady. Much of this was recreated in our car last night, with lucky Hilary standing in as Alley. She was, however, a much more polite, subdued and less musical version of Alley.

Mom: Brakes.
Dad: I see them.
Mom: Brake lights.
Dad: I can see.
Mom: Braking ahead.
Dad: I KNOW.
Me: Dad, maybe just slow down a bit when you see the brakes,
so mom doesn’t have to announce it each time.
Hilary: This reminds me of road trips from when I was younger.
Me: This reminds me of road trips from…
every time my family drives together.

All in all, the trip was fun. The crowd was crazy, the seats were sorted, and Hilary and I got that butterfly feeling that is oh so illusive when we watch games anymore. We got home in four, exhausted, starving pieces and fell asleep to the sound of poorly timed windshield wipers scraping across our minds.

One thought on “I See Brakelights

  1. You didn’t say if they won or lost.When my dad drives, my mom not only announces when she sees brakelights but gasps every five seconds and says things like, “Whoa, did you see that?” “Jeesh, they’ll kill someone driving like that” and stamping her foot as if to brake and clutching the door.

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