Suburban Island: Recipe for Holiday Travel Trauma

Here's my special recipe, whipped up on the fly this year as we hit the road for a Thanksgiving with family in Pittsburgh, PA. Try it at your own risk.

TRAVEL TRAUMA RECIPE:

Blend 2 parents and 2 college-age kids in a small rental car. (For maximum effect stuff a cooler in the backseat between the two passengers so they are really wedged in.

Add:

Minimum sleep the night before for everyone but Dad- the driver (rest for the paternal driver is necessary in order for him to be equal to annoying all the other family members by perky wake-up call that turns to frustrated bellowing up the stairs: Get up! We have to go!);
An unexplained need by said driver to leave home by 8:30 a.m. at the latest no matter what anyone else in the house says;
Portable devices that promise entertainment but require charging (that didn't happen), headphones (that suddenly go missing), or simply remembering to bring them with you (darn iPods);
The inability for anyone to agree on where to eat lunch at the halfway point;
The desire of parents to control and/or lecture trapped offspring and offspring to tease/annoy/push buttons of siblings and parents (who ironically find themselves equally trapped after indulging in major lecture binge over lunch).

Sprinkle with endless choruses of: give it back to me, move over - you're on my side, stop doing that, you should have remembered to do that yourself, cover your mouth when you sneeze (ewww!) and my favorite: I wanted to sit there.

Upon arriving irritable, exhausted, and looking like something the cat dragged in, tumble out of the car and rejoice - travel by trauma has been successfully survived. Try not to think too hard about the return trip. Eat lots of turkey and pumkin pie.