A friend of ours called yesterday morning to ask if it was snowing here. No, of course not, it never snows here. Well, almost never. Usually it’s just rain. So when he said it was snowing just about an hour north of us we checked the weather source and saw that the 20% flurries for central Arkansas were going to go away by noon. So we jumped in the van and decided to chase down the snow. These are the kinds of things we do. We chase down snow. Just to catch a few flakes.
Not too far north of our friend we found it. We got out and played in it.
And then we made a decision. We continued north. I teased Matt that his choices are not bad choices, it’s just that he doesn’t know when to fold ‘em. “Let’s push on, 40 miles isn’t that far.”
And it isn’t. When you can go more than 30 mph.
Because if a little snow is good then a lot of snow is better. Right?
Here’s the multi-media collage that was our road trip. That lasted 10 hours. On what the Arkansas Highway Transportation Department declared the worst road in Arkansas. We travelled from Little Rock up to Harrison. And back. Check out that red line between Conway and Clinton. Do you know what a van full of little people sounds like on a red line road? Twice?
We ran out of windshield washer fluid.
We kept repeating through the ordeal, “But it’s so pretty.”
And it was.
But when the roads started getting bad, the kids were really sick of being next to each other, and the road sign said this:
Well, I began to lose my mind.
At one point we forbade the kids to speak. Not at all. I don’t care how important it is, “Just don’t speak.” Then this happened.
When we arrived at our destination it was exotic, right? It was some place we’d always remember, right? It was noteworthy, right?
It was Wal-Mart.
Where we let the kids play in the snow again, play in the McDonald’s playland inside, and bought copious amounts of treats to bribe them out of their incessant fighting on the way home. Of course it didn’t work, are you kidding?
But we had seen snow. Because it never snows down here. We never even get to see a few flakes falling. What is still falling out my window since we drove in late last night?
What did my kids play in this morning in our own backyard?
And now I leave you with a few quotes from Matt:
“Oh c’mon, MeeMaw driver, this road is about as dangerous as a Taco Bell after midnight.”
“30 mph, Ben E. Keith, really? Is this your first year out of the Diesel Driving Academy? You better call 1-800-551-8900.”
“You know what our problem is? We both suffer from chronic acute micro bipolar disorder.”
“Not all adventures are fun, Little Lady.”
Oh, but they are, Matthew. I wouldn’t trade ‘em for anything because life with you is never boring. And you know how I hate boring.
