
Now that I don't have young children as an excuse to make reasonable stops, I am forced to act stoic and strong; even foregoing snacks and a pillow as, obviously, pioneers didn't nap their way across the plains.
"Pioneer?" Brad scoffed, "You were begging to stop at a Perkins by Erie, less than three hours into the drive." It was at this point that I began to seriously regret my self-imposed snack food restrictions. "Have a snack cracker," Brad offered. I wrinkled my nose. The marketing gimmick was to mix different flavored snack crackers...in the SAME box. Not normally a political person, I am, nonetheless, passionate on one particular subject: Snack cracker segregation. Sorry liberals, not all snack crackers are created equal.

Despite my liquid limitations, nature still called. First a subtle email. Then a text. Followed by frequent phone calls before issuing an amber alert. I tried to tell myself I was bored. I attempted to take my mind off the impending problem by counting every pothole we hit. With one eye on the clock, Brad offered to stop but I refused to be the reason we arrived twelve minutes after his predetermined ETA. It was time to reach out to my support group.
Me: I think my legs are cramping from crossing them so hard.
Me: Oh good...the baseball game is on the radio.
Me: We're currently passing the RV Hall of Fame. Wonder if they have a public restroom. Or a vending machine.
Sydney: Pull over

We finally stopped at a gas station to fill one tank and empty another. On the road again, my attention shifted from my bladder to my belly. "Have a Fig Newton," my husband heartlessly offered. How dare he! I'd rather starve. "There's also the snack crackers," he said, shaking the box at me. I explained, in detail, what he could do with his snack crackers.

I checked into our hotel and pretended to be street-wise and savvy as the receptionist neglected to ask me for my credit card or license plate number before casually placed my cash on the counter near her purse. I ignored the woman in the lobby who was loudly instructing her boyfriend about which one of her b-b guns was best to shoot a dog with. I happily accepted my complimentary waters and didn't check the seals until I was out of sight.

I couldn't wait to see what tomorrow's adventure would bring! Hint: It started with a Perkins!

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