It takes just under eight hours to drive from here to my parents' summer residence. That's if you don't stop beyond car fuel, people fuel (to be consumed in the car), and peeing. If you take breaks, it takes even longer.
Last July, Lorenz rented a minivan, and the kids settled into the back seat, and we left the farm on a Friday afternoon. This pretty much guaranteed we'd end up in stop and go traffic on the 400. Interestingly enough, the stereo stopped working in any predictable way when we hit traffic. If you pushed a button, it would go to AM radio. If you didn't push a button, it would do the same thing. If you actually had a station on the AM radio, it would suddenly change frequencies.
Lorenz blamed this on me. He was driving, and I'd put in the CD. Apparently, I pushed the destruct button. I responded predictably, with something along the lines of fine! you do it! So, he started screwing around with the stereo while also trying to drive (apparently, having once owned a record company qualifies you to both drive well and figure out the stereo). We continued to bicker.
The kids were strangely quiet. That should have been a clue. We didn't pick up on it.
In frustration, stopped in the traffic, Lorenz jokes about it being the kind of stereo that responds to clapping. He clapped. It meekly went back to CD. He stared at it, clapped again, it went to the next track. We can now add clapping like a two-year-old who has discovered how to do so to driving and fiddling with the stereo and bickering, all in stop and go traffic on the 400.
The clapping didn't really work in any way that allowed control of the stereo. When we stopped at Tim Horton's in Parry Sound, I took over the driving. While Lorenz, Adrian and Malcolm were getting the snacks, I played with the stereo controls. It worked without any problems.
I still didn't clue in.
Within an hour of Parry Sound, Lorenz fell asleep. The kids had no intention of doing the same. The stereo continued its possessed impression, so I turned it off. I drove, bored out of my tree with the lack of stereo. Adrian and I started telling each other the most inappropriate jokes we had in our respective arsenals. (Hey, I'm not a parent.)
It was a long drive.
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The next day, we were on our way into the Sault, and the kids said, try the stereo again. It worked for all of 30 seconds before it reverted to its previous bad behaviour. Lorenz looked in the rear-view mirror, noticed the little grin on his sons' faces, and registered Adrian's hand coming down from the ceiling.
There were rear stereo controls.
It took me a while to see the humour. Malcolm still brags about how good they got us. And he should be proud, the two of them - despite having their own bickering going - managed to not spill their little trick for over 24 hours.
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Am I nuts to be looking forward to another road trip next week? This drive will be over 10 hours...
The Jetta has no rear stereo controls.
I think I may have to dig out music to punish them by. Delayed revenge, but it might be sweet. Now where did that Abba CD go?
(Not being a parent also means that I don't have to be a grown-up about this).