“Wo,” she told me while sitting down in the passenger seat. “I’ve never gone on a trip this long upfront.”
“Wo” was right, as the same thing struck me.
A 3-hour car ride to Tampa. Just a few inches apart. What in the heck does a dad and his 14-year-old daughter talk about for that long?
Wo!
It was just a dad and his daughter getting away to visit some family. The two of us. My sister was in town from Chicago. My dad wanted to show off the tear-drop trailer he was building. We hadn’t seen my aunt in who-knows-how-long, and you always need to make sure she’s staying out of trouble.
It was something we hadn’t done – couldn’t have done – in the longest time as everyone battened down the COVID hatches and stayed close to home. As safe as we were being – masked up and carrying an extra 50-gallon drum of hand sanitizer – it was stretching us out of our safe confines and comfort zones.
We planned a quick trip. Quick visits. Keep it safe and socially distant. Check-in. Check-out. Double-time. That was the Thompson way.
“We need a shirt that says, ‘We came, we saw, we got the [BLEEP] out,” I told my daughter. “It’s kind of the family motto.”
She agreed.
But the car ride down? That wouldn’t be quick. Nor all the driving around town. Confined to the same car for hours on end. No one to talk to but ourselves. What if we ran out of things to say? (I haven’t been watching nearly enough YouTube videos for conversation starters.) What if there were awkward silences? How many times could I say, “So … um … how’s school going?” before the poor kid screamed, “DAD!!! If you ask me that ONE MORE TIME I’m going to jump out of the car and DROWN MYSELF IN THAT MOSQUITO DITCH!!!”
Yeah, that would be bad to explain to my wife. “What did I tell you about keeping her from drowning in a mosquito ditch?!? Don’t … ask … about … school!”
I hadn’t thought about this part of the trip. Hadn’t worried about it. I was busy thinking about all kinds of other things in the lead-up. Where we would get food. How we would avoid getting COVID because, well, it was another thing my wife warned me about. How we would manage the visiting, an errand or two and a museum in a little over 24 hours before getting back in the car and driving home.
It wasn’t until I sat down into the driver’s seat that it hit me. She didn’t have her Kindle loaded with movies and TV shows like all other trips. Nor were there any ear buds to drown out adult conversation with music.
This meant we had to “interact.” Talk time. But what would we talk about?!?
Turns out everything. And boy was it great.
Some parents complain that their children never tell them anything. On this trip, I couldn’t get mine to shush up if I tried. How lucky was I for that?
Now, I wouldn’t call it a whole lot of “deep” conversation. We pointed out cows, and wondered where they go to sleep. How her problems understanding compass points stemmed from confusion as a kid when people would say “UP ahead.” “That’s why I always think north is whichever direction is UP-hill,” she confessed.
“O … K,” I said. “Uh … you need to study harder in Geography!”
We talked about my philosophy on driving, since she can start herself next year, and Broadway musicals and all myriad of things. Then we pointed out more cows.
We paid our visits and checked out the trailer. Heard about Chicago and my sister’s podcast, “The Vanishing Act.” (Which is pretty cool btw – check it out.)
We went to Nordstrom to return something, and then bought a couple shirts that probably cost way more than they should have. I didn’t care. After buying everything online and barely getting out for the past 6 months, my daughter said it felt good to just go into a dressing room and try on clothes. We visited the Dalí Museum and took in the surrealist works in record time. We lived the COVID-enhanced Thompson motto, “Get the [BLEEP] out.”
And we laughed and talked and never hit a single awkward silence. Thank you, over-abundance of Florida cow pastures.
Not to take away from anyone, or anything else, but the car ride may have been the highlight of the trip. Just all that time to talk. To be present and together. Alone. To do what we often don’t have time to do anymore. The two of us. Off by ourselves. Free. Two passengers taking up the front seats, inches away, interacting. Talk time. (Plus, lots of discussions on cows. BTW, where DO they sleep at night?)