After our I-95 adventure last week, Maddie and her family took the advice of Horace Greeley and headed WEST. Just the thought of another I-95 nightmare left all of us sick to our stomachs.
The Westerly route was like a little slice of heaven:
- No speeding idiots
- No massive traffic jams
- No un-Godly construction delays
- And NO freaking tolls (Heaven I tell ya!)
The trip started off a little on the rocky side, Maddie’s appetite kicked up after we had been on the road all of ten minutes, but Gina stuck a bottle in her mouth and it was smooth sailing for the next 200 miles.
We were about 50 miles short of home when we stopped for a diaper change and another bottle for the baby. Gina took over the wheel and I climbed in back with the Mad Madster. Keep in mind, PaPa is a terrible passenger, if he’s not driving, he’s sleeping. This made feeding Maddie a real challenge.
I plopped the bottle in her mouth, but the baby also looked plum tuckered out. It soon became apparent; one of us was going to fall asleep on the other. I was struggling to stay awake, but the motion on the car and the soft quiet noises coming from the baby were putting the zap on my consciousness.
Twice I snapped awake to the sound of Maddie’s protests because I hadn’t noticed the bottle slipping out of her mouth. The harder I focused and tried to stay awake, the more Maddie kept falling asleep on the job as well. It was like the narcoleptic Olympics in the back seat where two idiots were just too tired to do anything except catch some Z’s. We were fighting the good fight, but sleep had the upper hand.
I woke up about three miles from home and both Maddie and her PaPa were in the same positions we had been in 45 minutes ago when we feeding time was supposed to begin. Like Father, like daughter: “If this car is a moving – Baby and PaPa will be snoozing!”