Miss Chris' Blog
{ laughing } who's the boss?
By miss chris
I fought a good fight.
I loved my wagon.
We could squeeze two car seats and a skinny teenager in the back seat. And a dog in the 'way back', surrounded by bags and whatnot for trips out of town.
It was 4-wheel drive and turbo. And loaded. Whee!
I loved my wagon.
But it was becoming too much of a struggle for us all to go anywhere. And babygirl is about to upgrade her seat (how is it possible that she is almost 10 mos?), which will squeeze the biggest girl out...
So we 'had' to get a new car.
I let hubs do all the looking and number-running and comparison internet researching and showroom visiting. It made me sad, the idea of getting rid of my mama-wagon.
I loved my wagon.
Have I mentioned that?
The idea of a bigger vehicle did not thrill me. There are gauges on either side of our garage door frame because of the last bigger car. (In my defense, we do have to take a hard right turn before entering the garage from the driveway. It is really shocking that this has only happened twice.) And the expense. Oy.
One day he brought a car home for me to try. I drove it around the block and decided it would do. It was certainly roomy enough. Really, it was a very nice vehicle. Very nice.
I said okay in a small voice and the deal was sealed.
And then we went to pick it up on a nasty, cold, snowy Saturday. It snowed and slushed 12 inches here that day. I did not drive it home or once we were home. I was skeered.
He spent a good chunk of Sunday afternoon programming my new car. I did not know what this meant. I guessed he meant the garage door openers and the seats.
I guessed incorrectly.
How so?
Monday morning 8:30 am. I have checkups for the little girls scheduled at 9 am.
Feeling pret-ty good about our timeframe -- all three of us presentable and with accessories and extra food and teething rings and backpacks and diapers and wipes and... you know. I got both girls in their newly adjusted car seats. I adjust my mirrors, the seat. I get my cell phone out and put it in the cup holder. I check my lipstick.
And then I started the car.
SPORTS RADIO PERSONALITIES ARE SCREAMING AT ME. YELLING ABOUT MARCH MADNESS AND BRACKETS AND BUTLER!!! BUTLER!!! BUTLER!!!!
ACK! THE BABY IS STARTLED AND SCREAMS.
'MOM,, TOOOOO LOUD!!!!" YELLS FIDGET.
"I KNOW! I KNOW! I'M SORRY..."I HAVE NO IDEA WHICH BUTTON IS FOR VOLUME! SURELY IT IS THE ONE WITH THE MUSIC NOTES ON IT. NO. THAT IS SWITCHING THE STATIONS. OH, NOW IT IS LOUD AND STATICKY AND...SWITCHING BETWEEN ALL OF THE AM STATIONS.
Oh wait. It's this Other button. The one with the line through it. Of course.
I am breaking a sweat and we haven't left the garage.
Breathing more easily, I take one last look at the phone to check the time. (I'm not even sure where the time is on this new instrument panel. I am flustered easily. You do not want me as your go-to gal in a crisis situation.)
My phone has a message across the screen:
"ACTIVATE BLUETOOTH" Um ,ok. Maybe later. Whatever. I press the button to make it go away and see the regular screen. It is now 8:40.
I put the car in Reverse.
A camera shot of the back of my car appears in my rearview mirror. This feels weird. BEEP BEEP BEEP! It is telling me the WAGON (sniff sniff) is parked out side, to the right.... ok.
I head out slowly, watching mirrors, checking all my spots, trying to get the feel of this much bigger car.
And then.
"TURN RIGHT ONTO MAPLE DRIVE."
What the heck? My car is telling me where to go? I didn't turn that on. What?
"MAKE NEXT RIGHT ONTO ARTHUR DRIVE"
Um, no. I don't need this right now.
"Mommy? What is that? Why is the car telling us where to go?"
"I don't know sweetie. I have no idea. I'm calling Daddy."
"IN 200 FEET, TURN LEFT ONTO WARD ROAD"
(shut UP, already!!!!)
I hit hubs' number on my cell phone and sit there, at the entrance to our neighborhood, with my phone pressed to my cheek, checking the mirror, praying no one comes up behind me.
THIS IS HUBS, I hear, over the car speakers.
(Huh? Heavens. It's the Blue Tooth.)
Hi honey, it's me, I say to the air.
{HI DADDY! HI DADDY!}
HI, WHAT DO YOU NEED? HI FIDGET!
"TURN LEFT ONTO WARD ROAD"
Um, honey, I think the nav is on and I don't know how to turn it off. And I don't know where it wants me to go. And it's stressing me out. And you're on the speakers.
I KNOW. I SET THAT UP FOR YOU. JUST SAY 'CANCEL ROUTE' AND IT SHOULD TURN OFF.
Cancel Route.
SAY IT LOUDER.
CANCEL ROUTE! I am yelling at myself in the rearview mirror.
{CANCEL ROUTE! CANCEL ROUTE! yells Fidget.}
"CONTINUE 1.5 MILES TO HIGHLAND ROAD AND TAKE A LEFT"
CANCEL ROUTE!!! I say, hubs says and Fidget yells at the same time.
WAIT, MAYBE YOU HAVE TO SAY CANCEL ROUTE AFTER I HANG UP. WHEN I HANG UP, WAIT FOR HER NEXT INSTRUCTION AND JUST SAY 'CANCEL ROUTE'.
It's not a Her. It's a him.
IT WAS A HER YESTERDAY.
Well, it's a him. And he's bossing me around. And I don't need this right now.
{CANCEL ROUTE! CANCEL ROUTE! }
OR YOU COULD PUSH THE PHONE BUTTON AND SAY CANCEL ROUTE. I HAD TO GIVE IT A STARTING DESTINATION WHEN I WAS SETTING IT UP YESTERDAY, SO I PUT IN THE DOC'S OFFICE. SO AT LEAST YOU'RE NOT GOING TO GET IN TROUBLE WITH THE NAV.
(Which is nice, because the only thing that could make this even more fun would be if he were RECALCULATING and getting impatient with my agenda.)
Okay, okay, I am saying.... I want to cry and I am breaking into a full sweat. CANCEL ROUTE! CANCEL ROUTE! yells Fidget. God bless her, she's trying to help. It is now 8:45. I don't even know how to hang up. I push what looks like a phone hang-up button on my steering wheel. After a few seconds I hear, "unable to establish connection." Good enough.
"TURN LEFT ON HIGHLAND ROAD IN 150 FEET."
CANCEL ROUTE! CANCEL ROUTE! Fidget and I are yelling.
"CONTINUE NORTH ON HIGHLAND ROAD FOR 2.3 MILES AND..."
I am losing it. I start pushing buttons, still yelling, CANCEL ROUTE, hoping ONE of them will cancel this Helpful Feature and make him Shut Up Forever.
But, no.
All of a sudden I see my dashboard display has changed -- it no longer has the mileage and direction, but says:
DRIVE IN CIRCLES TO CALIBRATE TIRES.
YOU HAVE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME. I was not thinking nice thoughts.
And then I started laughing so hard I just about peed my pants.
Somehow, and I'm not sure how exactly, I pushed enough additional buttons to get out of that one. And that is a good thing, because the last thing we needed was to fight between our navigator and the vehicle itself. Oy.
"TURN RIGHT IN .5 MILES ON 4TH STREET AND CONTINUE TO HWY 40, EXIT LEFT."
{ CANCEL ROUTE!! CANCEL ROUTE! Mommy, that's not working, is it?}
No sweets, it's not....
We arrive at the pediatrician's office at 9 sharp. Got in, got out. Kids are great. Dandy. We got back in the car and I took a deep breath. As we turned out onto the road we hear a lovely female voice:
YOU HAVE NOW REACHED YOUR DESTINATION. IF YOU NEED ADDITIONAL ASSISTANCE, SAY 'CONTINUE'. IF YOUR TRIP IS COMPLETE, JUST SAY 'END ROUTE.'
Slightly exasperated and completely doubtful, Fidge and I both gave it our best 'END ROUTE!
And, by golly, it worked.
I haven't heard from Bossy Him or Bossy Her since then. Perhaps they have found each other and are living blissfully, tucked between a fan belt and some washing fluid. I am a little afraid that one day I will start the car and they will have -- by some stroke of magical science -- multiplied, and demand a family road trip to Branson.
It could happen.
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