Travels with my Son

Two weeks ago I had plans to go to Florence for the beauty pageant our Granddaughter was in.  It was to begin at 7p with her group actually coming onto the stage closer to 8:30.  Mac bemoaned the fact that it was held  (a.) so late (b.) so far from home and (c.) that he'd actually be sound asleep in his chair by 9. 

I told him I was going come hell or high water and that I thought I could get Wallace to go with me.  Mac  doesn't like me on the roads at night anymore when I'm on my own.  I feel the say way about him, so it wasn't so much a comment on my driving as it was on the other drivers out there.  You know, the ones who won't get out of my way. 

So, Wallace said sure, he'd love to go watch his beloved niece in her first beauty pageant and arranged to get off work in time to come drive me.  I wasn't sure when the drivers seat had been given over to him, it was sort of an implied contract, I suppose.  So, at 5p, off we go.

The first thing he did was take the right  out of the drive rather than the left.  I reminded him that the bridge was out that way, so he quickly turned around and we headed out the other way to Angelus Road.  Here, he took a right rather than a left.  And we had to turn around again.  It was now 5:10.  I wasn't getting testy yet, but I could feel it working it's way up my throat.

We headed down Macedonia/Angelus Road and took the correct left onto 151 and headed toward Hartsville.  He drove in the left hand lane.  One hand was on the wheel the other was draped over the back of the seat.  He would approach a vehicle from behind and only after I had left imprints in the dash board would he pull around.  I had warned him not to hit the brake if he felt he might be speeding when a police cruiser appeared on the other side of the four lane.  "Nothing catches our eye like brake lights, " I explained.  He looked over at me and said not a word.  Just kept driving.  I tried to make idle chitchat to calm my nerves.  I blurted out one time that "you drive just like your father" and remembered then who had taught him to drive. 

We picked up Highway 52 and since neither of us had eaten, we stopped in at Taco Bell just outside Florence for a quick bite.  It was now 5:45.  I was glad to stretch my legs, my posterior and my nerves.  After we finished eating, it was back in the truck and off we went again.  We were now in serious traffic and I kept catching myself making little moaning noises.  I looked over one time, and I swear to you I saw my five year old son in his Billy the Kid pants and dress shirt, little boots all shined up spiffy...and stifled a scream.

We arrived at my younger son's sister-in-law's house where Arianna was having the final touches of makeup applied.  I was heading into the house to greet the family and heard the two McBride boys(to men) conversing about the trip up and I was not coming off in a good light.  I stomped over to them and announced to anyone who would listen that they should be grateful I had not fallen from the truck and kissed the ground in my gratitude to arrive not only in one piece...but alive. 

It didn't go over well with the driver who refused to relinquish my keys.  I swear he had a snear on his face and an evil laugh rumbling in his throat when we finally headed for home that night.  It's not a trip I would wish on anyone!  We were very nearly home when the sharp curve that separates Macedonia Church Road from Angelus Road appeared and I squealed in panic..."curve ahead...SHARP CURVE!"   Oh Lord, thank you for delivering me safely to the arms of my beloved...Amen.