Calgon take me away car-ride

Have you ever been driving down the road, minding your own business, and break out into laughter because you saw someone in another car looking ridiculous: they're zoned out, dramatically singing the tune on their radio (been there) or a couple is having a heated debate? Today, I was one of those people. Not the one in the car laughing, but the one in the car generating the laughter (or at least I think I would have laughed if I saw me).

Here's the story:
Jim was working late tonight which meant I really didn't feel like cooking so I loaded up the munchkins and headed off to Wendy's.

Me: Katherine, we're gong to go to Wendy's, pick up some supper in the drive thru, go back home and eat it. Would you like a chicken sandwich, chicken nuggets or a hangabur?
Katherine: Ummmmmmmmmmmmmm.

silence for at least a minute while my eyes roll 180 degrees back into my head to see her sitting in the back seat staring up at the ceiling

M: Honey, just pick one. Chicken sandwich, chicken nuggets or a hangabur?
K: Ummmmmm. How about........What are you going to have?

(That's her latest. She doesn't want to make a decision until she finds out what others around her are doing. Whether or not she should put blankets on when she sleeps, turn on her fan, what shoes to wear, what to eat, etc. They all begin with the question What are you doing?)

M: I'm going to have a chicken sandwich.
K: Ok, I'll have a chicken sandwich.
M: Ok, a chicken sandwich it is.
K: With no lettuce.
M: Ok, no lettuce. You don't like lettuce?
K: NO! And no pickles. Yuck pickles. Mommy, I do not like pickles.
M: Ok, no lettuce and no pickles. Pickles do have a strong taste. You might like them some day.
K: No, they're yucky.
M: Ok.
K: And no salt.
M: No lettuce, no pickles or no salt.
K: Or pepper, Mommy.
M: No lettuce, pickles, salt or pepper. Ok. Got it.

(It's no wonder mothers don't get into more wrecks than they already do. I'm supposed to be a defensive driver while all of this is happening?)

I drive up to an intersection, waiting for cars to pass and what do you know, there's McDonald's right in front of us and the cars are in a steady stream a good half mile down the road. I'm going to have to wait for a long time.

K: Mommy, I want to go to McDonald's.
M: No, I told you we were going to Wendy's.
K: But, Mommy, I really want to go to McDonald's.
M: Honey, we're not going inside Wendy's so we wouldn't go into McDonald's for you to play on the playground. No.
K: No, I don't want to go inside, I just want to go through the drive thru.

This is when I usually reach my breaking point. We've only been in the car for, oh, about 3 minutes. And most of the time, and certainly by the third time I've said something, if she's not getting it, I shut down. I say no more. I've said it, I know she understands it, there's no more talking about it.

M: Katherine, I said No. We're going to Wendy's.

At this point, I'm not sure what exactly she was saying. It had to do with pleading her case for going through a different drive-thru and I had completely shut her out.

Enter the moment when I'm almost positive I provided some commuters a good laugh. Shall I paint the scene? I woke up with the goal of cleaning our filth bowl we call a home. I made it very clear to Katherine this morning that I was not going to be any fun today, that today was for cleaning. I even made arrangements for her friend AC to stop by for a couple hours to keep her busy. The cleaning began after breakfast and it was intense. Thankfully, the girls kept themselves busy with few intermissions courtesy of me, so I could keep the momentum of the 50 bagillion ton train going and keep cleaning. About 10am I thought about showering, but then reasoned myself out of it, because I needed to keep cleaning even more.

Side note: If my hair isn't washed every 24 hours, it looks like I've dipped my head upside down into a pit of mayonnaise, combed it and let it air-dry. I usually wash it in the morning for that reason and ease of styling. The last hair wash was yesterday morning, so a good 36 hours later and I'm praying we don't run into anyone we know.

The picture, hopefully, is becoming clear. I'm wearing clothes I've been cleaning all day in (I'm lucky to have on a bra and have brushed my teeth), no make-up, my hair looks like I've stepped off the set of Grease the musical, it has a little barrett in it to pull back my dang-it-I-hate-growing-out-my bangs to the side like a little girl and my mind is reeling from a 3-minute debate with my 3.5 year old over which fast food joint to drive thru. I've given up the attempt at debating with her and I'm just staring into the never-ending stream of rush-hour cars, praying that one day they'll stop and the bright yellow arches will not be glaring through the front windshield advertising their superior coolness.

I think she is still pleading her case, (don't know, not really listening), and I start to laugh. I realize that on top of my awful appearance, I've now got my left elbow up on the door arm rest, my folded left hand propped up against my left cheek causing it to squish my left eye and also causing the left side of my mouth to be stretched into a Joker-like smile with the "Calgon, take me away" stare-into-oblivion look on my face.

The beauty of all this was that my laughter caused her to stop whatever she was still talking about. She started chuckling and asked what was so funny. How do I explain this?

M: Oh, I think you're funny.
K: Me?
M: Yes, honey. You make me laugh.

So I've turned it around to where she can bask in the wonderfulness of her being able to make me laugh.

A break in the traffic, some more laughter, a small 1/4 mile drive down the road until we turn into Wendy's and she says, "I thought we were going to McDonald's?"

I swear I've never known the honest-to-goodness-truth to those Calgon commercials until becoming a mom.