Surviving The Back Seat Beasts

If you've never taken two young kids on a long road trip, let me paint you a picture.

Imagine locking two sleep-deprived velociraptors inside a metal box.

Now give them unlimited fruit snacks, a stuffed fox, one tablet with 12% battery, and exactly one thing they both suddenly decide belongs to them.

Congratulations.

You're a parent.

Every road trip in the Bob household starts with optimism.

Mrs. Bob has snacks packed with military precision. Wilton is convinced today's the day he'll spot a moose. Preslow has packed seventeen "essential" toys, despite being physically capable of holding approximately three.

For the first twenty minutes, everyone is happy.

Then it begins.

"Daaaaaad..."

"Wilton touched me."

"I did not!"

"She's looking out MY window."

"He breathed on me."

"I want the blue cup."

"I wanted the blue cup!"

At some point the conversation devolves into what can only be described as prehistoric screaming. It sounds like two baby velociraptors arguing over who gets the last squirrel.

Meanwhile, I'm in the driver's seat trying to keep 6,000 pounds of truck between the white lines while my brain slowly melts out of my ears.

People without kids think driving is the hard part.

It isn't.

Driving is easy.

Driving while simultaneously refereeing two woodland creatures who have declared war over whose imaginary line has been crossed... that's an Olympic sport.

Now before the parenting police show up, no, you don't ignore your kids. You still need to hear when somebody genuinely needs you.

But there is a massive difference between hearing, "Dad, I don't feel well," and listening to twenty-three consecutive minutes of courtroom testimony about who started poking who first.

Which brings me to today's Wildman survival tip.

Get yourself a good pair of noise-canceling earbuds.

Not to block out your family.

To turn the volume of chaos down just enough that you arrive at your destination wanting to hug your children instead of listing them for adoption.

These are the ones I keep in the truck, and they've become as essential as jumper cables and beef jerky.

Bob's Road Trip Survival Gear: https://amzn.to/4xl1O9J

Seriously. They get the job done. 

The truth is, these trips are the memories you'll treasure one day.

One day Wilton won't be asking if every mountain has bears on it.

One day Preslow won't insist on singing the same song forty-eight times in a row.

One day the back seat will be quiet.

And as much as that sounds like heaven after four hours on the interstate... I know I'll miss the chaos when it's gone.

Until then...

Pass the snacks.

Turn up the noise cancellation.

And remember that somewhere, another dad is gripping the steering wheel while two tiny velociraptors debate ownership of an invisible line in the back seat.

Stay wild.

— Bob