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July 23, 2007

It's all Michael's fault

I don't think the drive down to Southern California could have been any crazier, except maybe if aliens had dropped down out of the sky and sucked our car up into their ship to perform various tests on our human form. Even then, I would have been drier.

We started off fairly late as far as long car rides go, leaving a little after 8 am. Bear was absolutely thrilled that he was going, his anxiety from the night before when he saw our suitcases, only a dream. We let him in the back seat of the car as we were loading and securing the house, and he stayed out there, doors open, until we were finished. There was no way he was going to budge out of that car, there's nothing he enjoys more than to come along with us everywhere we go. And he was coming, just not all the way. We usually leave him at the PetsMart Pethotel because it's the cheapest in the area and the first place he hasn't come home from looking like he'd just spent a week at fat camp. Eating nothing more than entire cups of air and big bowls of nothing. This time however, it was booked as was every other Pethotel in the area. So I hunted around and found one along the way, an hour north of where we're staying now. We'd just drop him off on the way! And because I am evil, I spent the entire car ride laughing at how he thought he was going along with us...Caleb didn't find it so funny.

A few hours into the car ride we ran into some traffic in some mountains (which ones you ask? I have no idea....). Part of the mountain had caught on fire and there were several trucks and even a helicopter fighting it. We were mostly at a standstill watching the fire blaze. One of these times we were stopped we sat and watched, deer in the headlights, as the woman in front of us backed up, and kept backing up, until she ran right into us. Lovely! I love car wrecks! So! Very! Much! We got her to pull over, which was an ordeal in and of itself, and she hurried out of the car, glanced at her back bumper and yelled "I'm fine!", headed back to her car and drove off. Great! Thanks! We're good too, in case you wondered. (Thankfully we were, bless the bumper.)

The next incident happened when we'd finally made it out of the traffic and found a little place to eat and fill up the car. It was pretty hot, so I stayed with the dog while Caleb went in, to let Bear go to the bathroom and stretch a little, so that maybe he wouldn't put his panting, death-mouth right next to my face. I really need to brush that dog's teeth.

Anyway, because Bear is neurotic, he spent most of the time on high alert, straining his neck, wishing it longer, to try to see inside the restaurant and keep an eye on Caleb. The mutt has some serious separation issues. Very serious. The moment he saw Caleb he freaked out, bouncing at the end of the leash, and put his foot directly into the large cow-pie sized pile of poo. I'm not kidding, that thing couldn't have come from anything smaller than a very fat cow. We used all the napkins we had to clean off his paw, even rubbed it with my antibacterial hand sanitizer. Thinking we had pretty much conquered the poo, we let him back into the car. Mucho grande mistake. Let me tell you, the stench was absolutely insane, and not your typical dog-poo smell (remember? Possibly cow?!). It was this sickly sweet smell, almost methane-like. It probably could have powered our car. I nearly lost the lunch I was about to eat. I had to pull out the hand sanitizer again and ended up using half of the bottle, rubbing it all over his bed in the back seat. Mmm....lunch......

Fast forward twenty minutes, and we're smack dab in the middle of L.A. traffic. Think speeding, followed by quick stopping ("fast, slow, fast fast slow...."). One of these times, Caleb had to slam on his breaks and reached his hand over to hold me back at the exact moment I'd picked up my still very full drink, spilling every single ounce of it in my lap. I was swimming in Diet Coke and ice. I was so wet, and we'd used every napkin we'd had on the Bear Poop-Foot Incident, that I had to mop up the seat using my very soaked pajama pants, and spent the next hour of the car ride in my underwear, attempting to dry my pants on the dashboard.

It was perfect timing, almost too perfect. Very suspicious. Caleb giggled a little too hard. Too much. My guess? Payback for making him listen to my old CD mixes, turning up "Man in the Mirror" a little too loud. The fake mic probably didn't help either.

Man, I love road trips.


Kjersti said...

I honestly think that if there were an award for being absolutely unable to have a normal trip anywhere, you would win it! I love your stories so much, but there's always some totally random incident that you have to deal with!

Jess said...

I am so sorry. It's that dog. Blame the whole thing on him.

Was L.A. your final destination?

Anonymous said...

Kim, you need to have your own reality tv show...I am serious!