Ahhh, Wednesday. Not sure how I approach this day of jump, middle of the week, or the day from hell? Wednesday’s I drive 60 miles to take my son and his teammate to hockey practice. I get to fight the good fight of the Boston traffic going South and North. I have always wondered how that works, traffic both ways. I rush them down to practice, a 1/2 or or sometimes 45 minutes early, against their wishes, but I know in order to get through the traffic and pick up his sister by 6pm at the after-school program, they have to suck it up. Ahhh, Wednesday.
My week is generally planned around this special day. Special in that I get to spend quality time with two teenagers who mearly grunt and text message one another while they are less than 16 inches apart. When I pick up Charlie’s teammate and friend Zack, I ask the same questions, hoping to get some conversation from these boys. Now Zack is a great kid, as the weeks have passed he plays me like a fiddle engaging in my tete á tete. “How was school today Zack?”, I ask hoping for a sentence longer than one word. “Actually, it was great Mrs. McConnell. Today, I had a really nice day. Thanks for asking.” What, what, who is this? Oh the joys of conversation. Do I continue, or do I relish in the fact that he didn’t just grunt a “good” under his voice-changing breath?
I’ll take it. My Wednesday is fulfilled. Now I head into the traffic. I would love to calculate the miles put on my car over the course of the hockey season. My Ford Explorer has 210,000 miles (most of which was driving to and from a job 40 miles from our home). Now, she, (Bessie, I affectionately call her, or Big Blue), has retired from driving to those hockey tournaments outside a 250 mile radius. My husband fears Bessie will not make it much longer.
She’s got good fight in her. She’s been to Montreal, Quebec, Rochester, Providence, Stamford, and of course, nearly every MDC rink in eastern Massachusetts. She’s toured much of the South Shore for Baseball trips, but was left behind when we drove to Virginia Beach for the AAU National Tournament. It may have been a result of her lack of air conditioning, or simply the noises in the back tend to over deliver their sound over the music on the radio. We’re careful where Bessie goes now.
My favorite part of Bessie is her ability to house so much crap to keep my six year old content. As we travel from place to place, taking in as many dinners on the road as an amateur hockey team, we collect plenty of restaurant crayons. I wish just once, someone would supply colors other than red, blue, green and yellow. I’ll survive though. I keep a basket of “art supplies” in the back, tucked away next to the three or four fleece blankets, extra winter coats, and of course the travel potty seat. You laugh, but when you have a girl, they come in handy!
I’m pretty convinced Bessie looks forward to the switchover. This is the time when the basket and items in the car switchover from hockey to baseball, or vice versa. This, this is the time Bessie gets a good cleaning. I even think she runs better for a day or so. (Noises not so loud, or maybe I am just turning the radio up a little louder?) Fleece blankets are replaced with large blankets to act as a picnic blanket. The “tent” I purchased for $20 dollars goes alongside the pop up chairs. (I highly advise the purchase of a pop-up tent to keep little ones occupied at baseball games. Baseball, as you know, has no clock…
Yes, Bessie has a good life. International explorer that she is, she keeps chugging along. And, I have to say, no car payment leaves me more money to take the kids out to eat and score those free crayons.
