Continued thanks to Linda Hill who sponsors this lovely stream of consciousness every week. Every Friday she provides a new word to spark our minds into action.
Check out Linda’s blog if you want to join in – check out the rules and the contribution of other bloggers. This week, the prompt is:
Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “my.” Start your post with the word “My.” Bonus points if you end your post with “yours.” Enjoy!
Those two words always started the game. Our family took a lot of road trips, many taking 12 hours to complete. Some shorter, but the long rides were murder if you had nothing to pass the time. So we counted station wagons.
It was Dad’s game really, and somehow he always seemed to win. The whole purpose of the game was to see a station wagon before anyone else in the car and claim it by shouting “My wagon!” (Younger readers may have played a more violent game called ‘punch buggy’ in which the goal of the game was to claim Volkswagon Beetles by exclaiming “Punch Buggy” followed by a punch in the arm.) Now back to the 1960s.
Station wagons were THE family car in the sixties. They were everywhere. My siblings and I loved them because they were so roomy. This was before seatbelts, so we sprawled everywhere and moved around a lot. There were six in our family. Dad always drove and Mom rode ‘shotgun’. My siblings and I fought for space in the back. We had one station wagon that had a third seat in the back that faced backwards toward the road behind the car – the ‘way back’ seat aptly named because kids could see the ‘way back’ or you were seated ‘way back in the back’. My brother and I always seemed to get that seat, but that was cool because our parents couldn’t see what we were doing. It wasn’t great for counting wagons unless they were coming up behind you. I never once thought what might happen if someone rammed into the back of our station wagon!
We would drive down the road and you could hear multiple voices calling out “My wagon!” and arguing over who saw it first. I don’t know how my parents did not lose their minds.
Everyone would eventually get tired and we kids would lay our heads down to nap. Just as the game would die down and we would start to drift off my dad would yell “My wagon!” He was the biggest kid of all.
We played a lot of games and sang a lot of song in our travels. The trips were often long, but Mom and Dad always made it fun. Our road trips were always an adventure. How about yours?