I'm taking a hiatus from Tasty Tuesday this week to stay with the themes of road trips and BlogHer.
Today's road trip tale is from the drive out to Ohio I just did solo with the kids.
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Jack had just fallen asleep in the back seat when Bella called out, "I have to pee." I cursed silently before pulling off on a little country road to find an open establishment with a restroom. I was hoping for a well lit McDonald's but all I found on the deserted Pennsylvania road was a gas station.
I pulled the stroller out from the jumble of suitcases in the trunk and hefted Jack's slumbering body into it. As soon as Juliette saw that Jack had usurped her throne, she started crying hysterically, demanding that I make him move. I held her thrashing body on my hip as I pushed the stroller with my other hand.
The toilet was in the back, and the strong smell of urine wafted out from under the door. When Bella opened the door, she stepped back, reeling from the stench.
"Mommy! It smells so bad. Can't we go somewhere else?"
"No sweetie, there is nowhere else. You'll just have to be quick and not try not to think about the smell."
"Can't you come in with me?"
I looked around at the darkened parking lot around the bathroom and Jack's gaping snoring mouth. If I brought him into the foul bathroom and woke him up with the smell, I would probably scar him for life.
"I'm sorry Bella. I just can't go in with you. You'll just have to put lots of toilet paper down and wash your hands carefully after."
"You never help me. It's not fair!"
"Bella, seriously, now is not the time. Just pee and let's get back on the road."
That's when Juliette chose to chime in.
"My have to pee really badly too Mommy. Can I go with Bella?"
"No sweetie. It is just too dirty. I can put a diaper on you."
"No diaper! No! My a big girl! My want to pee on the potty!"
I looked up at the sky, looking for strength, and chose to go with silence.
Miraculously, Bella peed quickly and we all rushed back to the car. I had just stepped out the back after buckling the still slumbering Jack back into his booster when I noticed the man.
He was driving an electrician van, arm dangling out the window, staring at me with a creepy smile from the other side of the gas pumps. As his van inched along slowly, he craned his head to examine the passengers of the minivan. He seemed to be counting us, looking for a man, I presumed.
I ran back to my door, slammed it shut, and hit the lock button. I could feel his eyes on me as I turned the key in the ignition. I didn't look his way again as I peeled out the parking lot, heart thumping in my chest.
I checked my rearview mirror every few minutes for the next 60 miles, terrified that I would see his yellow electric logo. I never saw him again.
Perhaps he was just a friendly electrician. Perhaps not.
Thankfully I'll never know.
Next road trip, there will be no late night pit stops.
Thankfully I'll never know.
Next road trip, there will be no late night pit stops.
