For my family (as for most families), the problem is not driving to Grandma’s house for Thanksgiving; it’s getting ready to drive to Grandma’s house for Thanksgiving. Items are forgotten, deadlines are passed, and tensions run high.
First, we missed our “we’ll all be in the car by 11:00” deadline. We were all in the car by 11:07, and then everybody had to run back in to get something, or run back in to pee.
Second, we discovered my seatbelt didn’t work. My family is big on seatbelts. We wasted about ten minutes jamming screwdrivers into the buckle to no avail, and finally my Dad just resolved to drive carefully.
Third, we were one hour into the drive when we realized we forgot my dog’s medication. Now, my dog is fifteen years old and deaf. She has Alzheimer’s and a failing thyroid. These were life-sustaining medications. So we turned around and went back. By the time we got back on the road, my dad threw his “I’ll drive carefully so Elodie doesn’t die” notion right out the window and nearly took out a mailbox speeding out of the neighborhood. As it was, we almost missed Thanksgiving dinner.
But. But. BUT. It’s after Thanksgiving, and I CAN LISTEN TO CHRISTMAS CAROLS. I splurged. I’m not ashamed to admit I splurged with reckless abandon. There were seven dollars in the No Christmas Carols Before Thanksgiving Jar. Those seven carols were probably what kept me sane.