Road Trip Chronicles: I Wasn’t Left High or Dry

It started out with loads of excitement. My dad had just bought a 1981 burgundy Ford Fairmont station wagon. At that time it was the crème de la crème of station wagons afforded by middle class families. I remember my dad being so proud of his new vehicle. He even fitted it with a PA system and a CB radio for checking in with truckers on road trips. Yes, my dad was sort of a radio and sound geek back in the day.

I remember that wagon being so spacious. It had two rows of seats and a back space that had a folding bench seat that could be folded flat to lay down on. I remember many happy family nights at the drive-in where dad would raise the hatch and my brothers and I laid in the back with our blankets and pillows watching movies on that huge screen. Mom and dad were free to do whatever it is they wanted while we were occupied. (My parents used to pre-screen movies to make sure they were appropriate for our young eyes).

It was also spacious enough that if my two brothers and I were all sitting in the same row my parents didn’t have to hear me screaming, stop touching me! or, he’s touching me! For a little while at least, until we started getting bigger.

Anyway, we’re gearing up for our first road trip in the wagon. It was a minimum 12 hour drive from Maryland to Alabama to visit family. We had it packed up with suitcases, a cooler filled with food and drinks (there was no stopping for food), and our own personal forms of entertainment to keep us children from distracting the drivers. I had my trusty Walkman with my favorite cassette tapes and whatever books I was reading at the time.

Some hours into the trip, we stopped at a rest stop for our bathroom breaks and to stretch our legs. To hear my dad tell it, I had a fixation with public bathrooms, and I always needed to see what each and everyone looked like when I saw the sign. Road trips were no different. If I saw one letting us know that a rest stop was up ahead, I needed to go.

After all of us handling our business (or so I thought), we piled back into the wagon. My oldest brother and I occupied the window seats and my little brother sat in the middle. Eventually, I fell asleep about an hour or so into the ride only to be snatched awake by my little brother’s cries.

“I GOTTA PEE!”

Oh, I was pissed! Yes, a 10-year-old can be pissed. And if you hang on for a little while, you will see that I surpassed the proverbial peek point of pissitivity. While my brother is crying that he had to pee, I’m yelling at him asking did he not go when we were at the rest stop!? He answered no and I screamed, why not? I did’t understand how this could have happened. I mean, I 👏 know 👏 the 👏 rules. Everyone must use the bathroom before getting in the car. Periodt! How could my father not make him go to the bathroom? I needed answers!

Meanwhile, my brother starts crying because he really has to go, and he doesn’t want to wet himself. Thankfully, moms to the rescue! She had an empty soda bottle that she tossed to him and told him to get in the back seat and go in the bottle. My little brother jumps in the back seat with the bottle unzips his pants and commences to pee. As he began peeing, he didn’t point his pee-pee inside the bottle. No! He aims at the bottle. Well guess what? He missed.

LAWD, LAWD, LAWD!! The screams I scrumpt shook my father in his seat as he piloted the vehicle. “HE PEED ON MEEEEEEEE!” And then there came the laughter from the front passenger and driver seats of the car. My parents hollered laughing. They laughed so hard my dad almost hit the shoulder and my mom was doubled over crying. Wasn’t sh*t funny to me! I’m back there crying real tears while my parents are laughing, the oldest brother was conflicted about laughing but couldn’t hold it back, and my little brother finally got smart and actually put his little wiener inside the bottle and was still peeing. In retrospect, he didn’t know anything about putting it inside the hole so I guess I can see why he thought he was supposed to aim. But I digress!

The trauma! I had been peed on and everyone was laughing…except little bro. I think he knew he was going to die. If ever in my life I wanted him to be un-alived, it was that day and I wanted to do the un-aliving. But noooo, to add insult to injury my parents told me, “Don’t you touch that boy!” through barely controlled fits of laughter. I was on fire. I could’ve spontaneously combusted. I guess being peed on kept me from bursting into flame. I tried to kill him with my eyes though. He stayed in the back for the rest of the way. It was for the best. To this day I find myself still getting pissed (pun intended) all over again and it doesn’t help that my parents still find it as hilarious today as the day it happened.

Anyway, that’s my all-time most memorable road trip. And no jokes about golden showers in the comments section!