Today my dog found the rotting carcus of a baby bird, and promptly flopped on his back and did his best to smear miniature avian gut parts all over his fur. I don't understand the appeal. I've never driven down a road, saw a dead deer on the shoulder and thought, "Boy, would I just love to pull over and go turn a few somersaults inside that doe's ribcage." Stupid dog.
More annoying that washing decaying flesh from dog fur, however, is answering a million questions from your kids on a long car trip. Today we headed into the cities and in the hour and a half it took to get to our destination, I fielded the most innane queries on a wide range of topics.
Mom, what is that?
A boom crane
Mom, what if you were a boom crane?
I guess I'd be parked on the side of 494 waiting to do my part to build a bridge.
Mom, what if you were a bridge?
I'd be helping cars and pedestrians cross a busy highway.
Mom, what if you were a highway?
Ad nauseam. When they got off the "what if you were" meme, they started firing off completely random questions. Can we talk about brains now? Are we there yet? How old is Grandpa? Why is that building shiny? Do we have alligators in Minnesota? Is that blood or pizza sauce on my shoe?
I appreciate their curiosity and I encourage it most of the time. But today I couldn't take any more. Not without Tylenol and a Diet Coke. So I said, "Boys! I need some quiet. I don't want anyone to talk for the next twelve minutes. If I hear another question, there will be dire repercussions."
The Senator couldn't help himself. "But Mom, what's dire mean?"
I almost pulled off the highway. If there had been a dead raccoon on the shoulder of the road, I would have made The Senator get out and roll in it.