"Can I drive?" I asked, standing in the middle of my grandparents drive-way as I waited for all 11 family members to decide where they would ride. My grandma was more than willing to let me drive my Grandpa's awesome Convertible which is pretty much amazing, but thus the seats were too small to fit all the girls in the back so we took the other car.
"Watch these curves up here, they're going to be sharp. Lot of people just go right on through the guard rail ..." My papa warned, as we headed up the mountainside. My grandma and the girls were smooshed into the backseat chatting up a humongous storm and laughing an awful lot. We passed Big Meadows and he reminded me of the time we'd all taken a picnic up there and roasted hot dogs and watched deer. We drove through the park and up another steep incline before we spotted the sign for Four Seasons: Massanutten. By this time, we were all starving hungry and the food was absolutely amazing. * smiles *
After eating for an eternity which wasn't hard considering the menu, we shivered our way back to the car. I was smart enough to latch on to my Papa's arm because he's always much warmer than I and the cold mountain air was just whipping across the expanse of parking lot. My grandma and I swapped seats so she'd be more comfortable, and everything was fine and dandy.
... Until, we were about halfway back up the mountain and the car began to sputter a bit. My papa told my grandma just to give it more gas and it'd be fine. She did, and that only made matters worse. The car puttered some in protest and then ever so suddenly gave up the ghost and died. Right there on the side of the mountain with no respect or decency for passengers who really loved the idea of staying warm and getting home.
I dug my phone out of my bag and called my Momma, explaining our dilemma. She laughed and almost hung up on me until she realized I wasn't joking. And I thought to myself, "Becoming toast on the side of a dark mountain is no laughing matter." Are you even kidding me?
So my dad turned around somewhere and went back in the direction we had come, and managed to find a gas can that held all of one gallon of gas which didn't really impress me much. While we girls sat scrunched in the back seat of my papa's car, we couldn't help but crack up just a little. Papa had five girls of his own, so I immagine we took him back ...
My Grandma -- "Well that person passed us too! Why doesn't somebody stop Haywood?"
My Papa, in a somewhat dry tone -- "Would you stop to help somebody on the side of the road at night?"
My Grandma -- "Well, uh ..."
My Papa -- "Yeah! I know you would. Just like a woman."
That made me laugh, because it reminds me of lots of other similar things. I randomly decided men must just be alike where these sorts of things are concerned. * smiles *
The longer I sat there, the more the wheels turned in my head. I was thinking aloud, and mentioned something about feeling like that wounded man in the Bible that the Good Samaritan helped. A moment later, Mckenna pipes up all the way over from her squished up seat by the window, "There went the Priest."
We drew pictures on the fogged windows until daddy came back with the little gas can. I bet my Papa's going to be a pretty happy man when he's riding down the road on a sunshiney day sometime soon and finds all those marks we left. * oopsies. *
Finally, we made it to a gas station and ended up making it home safely. But even for not being the most ideal thing to do with one's grandparents, it was a pretty fun night. And as you already know, I love me some spontaneity. * winks *
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