When Life Gets You Down5:22 AM
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A Crazy Homeschooler Moment
I was sitting on the side of a Colorado highway running through the middle of nowhere. Our tire was flat and the tools stowed on board useless to change the situation. We were stuck. We called roadside assistance, but help was an hour away, and it was hot. HOT. Jeans-glued-to-your-thighs hot. Air-conditioning-bah-humbug hot.
My family has a running streak of good things coming our way (until Bethany starts a electronic breakdown snowball effect, but that's another story). It's partly because my dad reserves the hotel room months in advance and has the quarters stacked with quarters and dimes stacked with dimes for the toll fees. It's partly because my mom packs breakfast and lunch for the travel days and puts a change of clothes, pajamas and underwear in individual plastic bags for individual persons for motel stays. There are no loopholes in Bergmann travel plans. When the GPS gets revved up and eleven persons cram into the twelve-passenger van, we know exactly where we're going, exactly on time -- no excuses, shenanigans or hang-ups. Certainly no side trips to the Spam museum. The children's patience doesn't last that long.
I like my punctual, planned family. The only problem is, as I mentioned, good things come our way. The only Bergmann vacation mix-up involves toothbrushes stranded at home. And occasionally pajamas. We never had children throwing up in the backseat or breakdowns or blowouts, of all things.
You will understand that some tempers, unused to Colorado heat and flat tires, were a bit, shall we say, strained.
The only readily available activity was hunting for prairie dogs in the wayside ditch, hiking to the body of water a couple miles away or learning how to climb over barbed wire fences. Actually, the only real available activity was frying in the van. We Bergmann girls didn't like that. Due to a stellar Sunday school lesson on how worry strips God of His sovereignty (taught by yours truly), we were of the mindset that blown tires were a providential opportunity to experience something Bergmanns usually never do: traveling woes.
So we sisters did what all (in)sane people do: we danced the Macarena on the side of the highway. Got a lot of weird looks and honks. Apparently it's not every day that people dance on the side of the highway?
What are your crazy travel moments?