So, let's start out by stating the obvious: 4 a.m. is a godawful early time to get up to catch a plane. And it seems weirdly redundant to hurry up to get to the airport super-early so that you can fly off to Winnipeg, so that you can sit around for 4 hours, before flying off to Thunder Bay. Why are there no direct flights, dammit?
Note to self: traveling with slow-moving old people is simultaneously an advantage and disadvantage. I mean, let’s consider the boarding situation. Ha ha, you mother with kids, waiting to pre-board the plane. My parents out-rank you in inconveniencing others; therefore, we get to pre-pre-board before you. I laugh at the mother of bratty kids as I push my dad’s wheelchair past them and leave them in the dust. Neener neener, sucks to be you!
But you know that whole yin-yang karma thing? We get on the plane first, but we get off the plane last. Hmm... not sure who really has the advantage in this situation.
Of course, it's possible my parents would have a different take on "who is the most inconvenient" when it comes to the whole traveling situation. Maybe they don’t always appreciate traveling with a snotty daughter who points and laughs when they can’t figure out how to fasten (or unfasten) their airplane seat belts. Or, when Mom nervously catches her breath as the engines power up, she might not appreciate her ill-bred daughter saying, “but the takeoff is the best part of the plane ride – and if it goes wrong, we probably won’t live long enough to regret it.” And they probably got tired of the incessant whining about how long we're stuck in the airport. Or the lounging and lying around in the waiting area with a jacket draped over the head like a homeless person, and every ten minutes, like clockwork, popping up to say, “what time is it? Can we go yet?”
But who cares what my parents think? Let’s talk about the important stuff, like how we were going to Thunder Bay to visit Monica and see her new house, and OMG! My Rental Vehicle! Have I told you about my rental vehicle? Let me tell you about my rental vehicle.
It’s big! It’s cushy! It has bells and it has whistles! A DVD player! A compass thingy (of course, I have my navigator, so I don’t pay any attention to that). It could probably seat ten people, and if you don't want to, the seats fold down and out of the way! When you open the doors, you have to find handholds to help you scale the side of the vehicle to climb inside. It’s the oversized SUV that ate North America.
It’s a Nissan Armada. It’s called the Armada because obviously nothing but an armada can stand against it. When things are in my way, I just bounce over them – speed bumps, curbs, small children, compact cars, station wagons, whatever. Just ‘bumpity-bump’ and you’re on your way in uber-comfort, heedless of the carnage left behind you. What could be more fun? Monica hides her face in shame as we drive around, and said she’s afraid an environmentalist will try to bomb us – however, I’m pretty sure that the Nissan Armada can take them on and will just “burp” slightly as we bounce over them. BUUU-“aarrrgghhh!”-RRRPPP.
(Yes, I’ve gone to the Dark Side.)
How can you dislike a vehicle that makes you look small?
- “Catherine, have you lost weight?”
- “No, my vehicle just got bigger,” says I, chowing down on donuts and deep-fried Mars bars.
Vroom-vroom! Yum!
I like to pull up alongside all the other SUVs and minivans and monster trucks being driven by big, beefy guys, and I roll down the window and yell, “Ha ha! Mine is bigger than yours!”
Yup. Good times.
(What? Monica’s house? Oh yeah. It’s nice.)
Note to self: traveling with slow-moving old people is simultaneously an advantage and disadvantage. I mean, let’s consider the boarding situation. Ha ha, you mother with kids, waiting to pre-board the plane. My parents out-rank you in inconveniencing others; therefore, we get to pre-pre-board before you. I laugh at the mother of bratty kids as I push my dad’s wheelchair past them and leave them in the dust. Neener neener, sucks to be you!
But you know that whole yin-yang karma thing? We get on the plane first, but we get off the plane last. Hmm... not sure who really has the advantage in this situation.
Of course, it's possible my parents would have a different take on "who is the most inconvenient" when it comes to the whole traveling situation. Maybe they don’t always appreciate traveling with a snotty daughter who points and laughs when they can’t figure out how to fasten (or unfasten) their airplane seat belts. Or, when Mom nervously catches her breath as the engines power up, she might not appreciate her ill-bred daughter saying, “but the takeoff is the best part of the plane ride – and if it goes wrong, we probably won’t live long enough to regret it.” And they probably got tired of the incessant whining about how long we're stuck in the airport. Or the lounging and lying around in the waiting area with a jacket draped over the head like a homeless person, and every ten minutes, like clockwork, popping up to say, “what time is it? Can we go yet?”
But who cares what my parents think? Let’s talk about the important stuff, like how we were going to Thunder Bay to visit Monica and see her new house, and OMG! My Rental Vehicle! Have I told you about my rental vehicle? Let me tell you about my rental vehicle.
It’s big! It’s cushy! It has bells and it has whistles! A DVD player! A compass thingy (of course, I have my navigator, so I don’t pay any attention to that). It could probably seat ten people, and if you don't want to, the seats fold down and out of the way! When you open the doors, you have to find handholds to help you scale the side of the vehicle to climb inside. It’s the oversized SUV that ate North America.
It’s a Nissan Armada. It’s called the Armada because obviously nothing but an armada can stand against it. When things are in my way, I just bounce over them – speed bumps, curbs, small children, compact cars, station wagons, whatever. Just ‘bumpity-bump’ and you’re on your way in uber-comfort, heedless of the carnage left behind you. What could be more fun? Monica hides her face in shame as we drive around, and said she’s afraid an environmentalist will try to bomb us – however, I’m pretty sure that the Nissan Armada can take them on and will just “burp” slightly as we bounce over them. BUUU-“aarrrgghhh!”-RRRPPP.
(Yes, I’ve gone to the Dark Side.)
How can you dislike a vehicle that makes you look small?
- “Catherine, have you lost weight?”
- “No, my vehicle just got bigger,” says I, chowing down on donuts and deep-fried Mars bars.
Vroom-vroom! Yum!
I like to pull up alongside all the other SUVs and minivans and monster trucks being driven by big, beefy guys, and I roll down the window and yell, “Ha ha! Mine is bigger than yours!”
Yup. Good times.
(What? Monica’s house? Oh yeah. It’s nice.)
Comments
Post a Comment