My Butt Itches

June 25th, 2024

Asher’s a good kid, but he is still a kid. He’s three and a half years old, and in some ways mature for his age. However, it is hard on him to go on an 1100-mile-long road trip his grandparents. Karin and I wanted to visit our other three grandkids in Texas, and because we are Asher’s legal guardians, he had to come with us. Flying might have been easier, but flying also entails logistical problems, so we chose to drive. Driving provides for more flexibility. It’s just difficult for a little boy to sit in a car seat for that long of a journey. It’s difficult for the old folks too.

One of the goals on the trip was to keep Asher happy and content, or at least quiet. There is nothing more disconcerting while driving than having a screaming kid in the back seat. Karin and I tried to plan ahead to prevent any meltdowns enroute. There was still some hollering, mostly from me. However, we had some ideas on how to keep the boy settled.

We made frequent stops as we drove from Wisconsin to Texas. If a rest stop had a playground (these things exist in Missouri and Illinois), we pulled over for a while. We let Asher play as long as he wanted just to tire him out a bit. The weather was hot all through the journey, so Asher never ran amok for more than half an hour or so. Then we gave him something to drink and tucked him into his seat. We let the air conditioning in the car and the soothing drone of the motor lull him to sleep. If that happened, then we slammed on the accelerator and put on some miles.

We made a habit of stopping for gas at Love’s travel centers. The reason for that was the fact Love’s had in stock stuffed animal figures from Paw Patrol. Asher is obsessed with Paw Patrol. He says things like “Chase is on the case!” and “Paw Patrol is on a roll!”. If there was new Paw Patrol character at the travel center, we bought it for him. Yeah, it was pretty much bribery on our part, but it gave the kid a burst of dopamine, so it was worth the money.

We packed all sorts of toys, books, and other distractions for the boy. Roughly 50% of our luggage consisted of Asher stuff. We brought his bicycle along so that he could ride around in hotel parking lots. We brought his swim gear so he could go into any open hotel pool. Karin let the lad watch Paw Patrol You Tube videos when all else failed. Even then, there were stressful times. One cannot plan for everything.

One instance of unexpected turmoil came early in the journey during breakfast at our first hotel in Mount Vernon, Il. Asher was being finicky. He wasn’t very interested in any of the food offered to him. Karin had given him a full glass of orange juice and then walked away to get some coffee. As I sat next to Asher, he managed to dump the entire contents of the glass on to the table and his lap. I freaked. After expressing a heartfelt “Goddamit!”, I pulled him away from the table. He was crying. The kid had OJ on his shirt and pants. His Crocks were full of orange juice. He was cold, sticky, and wet. Karin tried to give me advice. I chose not to listen. I just took Asher up the room, stripped him, washed him, and gave him a new set of clothes. This event set the tone for the rest of the day.

On a lighter note, on our way back home from Texas, we stopped in Lawrence, Kansas, so that Karin could go shopping at the Yarn Barn. True fiber aficionados keep track of every yarn store on their route of travel. The Yarn Barn is a pilgrimage destination for people like Karin. The have yarn for knitting, weaving, and almost anything else that a person can do with it. The plan was for Karin to go into the store, savor the experience, and spend money without Asher there to interfere. I was going to take Asher to the massive toy store next door to the Yarn Barn and keep him amused. Alas, it was not to happen.

Asher started crying as soon as we left Karin. Despite my cajoling, he was adamant that he be with his Oma in the yarn store. We found Karin. She was busy making her purchases. Asher was instantly bored and restless. A woman who worked there offered him some crocheted stuffed animals to play with. Those kept him busy for a very short while. Then he complained to me,

“My butt itches.”

“What?”

He yelled, “MY BUTT ITCHES!”

Everybody there heard him, but nobody reacted. The store has classes for knitters, many of whom are young mothers with children. The staff at the Yarn Barn is used to this sort of disruption.

Then Asher’s mother wanted to do a video call with him. Asher would have none of it. He ran through the aisles like a madman with me chasing him with the phone. I think his mom saw the video of him sprinting away from me. It must have looked like a scene from “Cops” where the suspect is fleeing from the police. Asher just laughed as we ran through the store. Eventually, his mother gave up on the call. That was a good thing because I was getting out of breath.

Overall, it was a good trip. I was never bored.