By Carl Sampson
Our kids are real road warriors. When they were younger, we took a lot of cross-country trips. We drove from Minnesota to Boston to Los Angeles and back — by way of Florida.
They saw the Pacific Ocean, the Atlantic Ocean and just about everything in between. Along the way, they got to see a lot of the country, and learned how to deal with stultifying boredom at the same time.
To pass the time, they would make up stories — kind of like I do for a living. As we passed a car, they would size up the driver and passengers and make up the stories of their lives.
“He just robbed a bank,” one of the kids would announce from the backseat. “Yeah, and he’s heading for Mexico. The passenger is his accomplice,” another would say.
The passenger would be a kindly grandmother-type. “She’s got the machine gun. …”
Most of the time, the results were highly entertaining, and sometimes they were hilarious, as they took no facts whatsoever and came up with an entire life story.
If only those drivers knew how entertaining they were.
I occasionally long for those days, when our kids would happen across a situation and make up a great story on the spur of the moment. One of those times happened the other day. My wife and I were heading home from the movies, and we happened upon a young gentleman crossing the street.
This, of course, was no big deal, except for the fact he was wearing only a towel. No shirt, no shoes, no nothing else. It’s not as though he was in a rush to get back indoors. He nonchalantly strolled across the street to a pickup truck, opened the driver-side door and started looking around.
“I wonder what he’s doing,” I said.
“I don’t know, but there must be a story behind it,” my wife said.
“I just hope he didn’t lock the key to his apartment inside,” I said.
There have been other occasions that make me wonder what happened one minute before I walked in the door. When the kids were smaller, I would hear all sorts of thumping going on in another room, followed by giggling, then outright laughter and then ….
I’d walk in the room and everything would be calm. All four boys were sitting on the couch as though they were in Bible study.
I’d leave the room, and 30 seconds later the giggling would start again.
I suppose every parent has run across similar circumstances. Kids just can’t help it — they are born to play. I never did figure out what they were doing that was so entertaining. I just made up a story that they were discussing homework or getting ready to vacuum or take the dog for a walk.
Whatever I made up, I was sure of only one thing. That’s not what they were doing.
