kimberliah…

Random fact about me?

I am not, nor have I ever been…. a fan of Hub’s driving

I have finally trained myself, within the last 5 years, that if I just close my eyes…. it all goes away.

Most road trips, that are longer than 15 minutes, consist of the following…

Myself, in the passenger seat, curled into the fetal position.  Right hand gripping my door handle, left hand clutching the middle console. If, for some odd reason, my eyes are actually open…. my right leg will automatically spring, towards my imaginary brakes, every 25-30 seconds.  The “F Word” becomes the only word that registers in my brain and passes by my lips.  My face is frozen, for the entirety of the trip, in what I can only imagine to be the exact same expression I would have if confronted by a family of ravenous bears.  At some point, during the lengthier trips, my survival instinct kicks in… my body shuts down… and I essentially play dead.

So, you’re probably wondering, at this point, why I don’t just do the driving myself…

Good question.

I. Hate. Driving.

Hate it!

HATE!

About 15 years ago, my little Honda Civic Hatchback and I decided that we were unhappy with the placement of a K-Rail sitting on a off-ramp.  Our solution was to hit it going about 85-90 miles per hour.

Bad

Damned

Idea

That K-Rail made us it’s bitch

Straight up

So, yeah… Me and driving aren’t really as close as we once were.

Fast forward to yesterday…

Hubs and I had to drive to Mission Hills…. This only means one thing to me.

L.A. Traffic

We managed to make it most of the way with little to no incidents.

At one point, close to our destination, I pried my eyes open and saw something that actually caught my attention and made me chuckle.

A stick figure family on the back of an SUV

Normally I find these little families annoying.

I usually want to peel one of the stickers off and leave a ransom note, on a Post-It, in its place.

But, this one was different.

There Was Dad Stick Figure… looking all Dad-ish, carrying a golf club

Mom Stick Figure… holding a purse and wearing little high heels

Big Brother Stick Figure… spinning a basketball on one of his stick figure fingers

Little Sister Stick Figure… carrying a doll and wearing a tiara

Littlest Brother Stick Figure… with one foot on a soccer ball

and even the Dog Stick Figure… standing next to his bone

Are you wondering where the humor is, in this little set-up

I left one family member out…

In between Big Brother Stick Figure and Little Sister Stick Figure was a 3rd Son

However, 3rd Son was a little different from the rest

3rd Son wasn’t really even a Stick Figure

3rd Son was Fat

and that’s all.

Just Fat

While every other family member had something that made them…. them

3rd Son had nothing identifying…. no PSP, no slice of Chocolate Cake, no nothing…

Just some clothes, that portrayed him to be about 3 times the width of the rest of his Stick Figure Family.

I can only imagine how the conversation went, between 3rd son’s parents, while picking out each of their precious children’s stickers.   I mean this is a really huge decision.  Every single stranger, that you pass on the freeway,  is going to immediately associate your child with the message being portrayed on their sticker.

SFD- Well hun… we’ve manged to pick out everyone stickers except 3rd Sons’   We’ve managed to capture Big Brother’s love of basketball, Little Sister’s princess-like ways, Littlest Brother’s crazy soccer skills and even our dog’s favorite bone.  We need to get this done!  Think, woman!  How do we want to symbolize 3rd Son???

and somewhere, following that last question, these 2 proud parents made the sound determination that 3rd son would be known solely for his blubber.

Rock on, 3rd Son…where ever you are.  I support you!