Road Trip w/The Boys

Prince Jordan and his crew are this very minute (12:48am) on the highway - embarking on...


The crew wanted to do "The Big Summer Trip" and I hooked the boys up with a condo down in Orlando for the week. They decided that it would cost them more to fly & since none of them are 21 - they couldn't rent a car without forking over a tuition sized deposit. Thus, they are driving - the infamous party van - our Chevy Conversion Van.

I am up at 1am in the morning, the worried mother, fretting about safety, can they handle the drive, are they gonna be okay...blah, blah, blah. The FireMarshall is sleeping soundly. We got a call about 30 min ago from the Prince asking about the brakes on the van. I practically jump out of the bed frantic but The FireMarshall is handling the call with finesse and calm. I'm pacing the floor. The FM hangs up, lays back down and starts to promptly go back to sleep.

DA HELL. I want details. What's going on? Are they okay? Are they gonna make it?

The FireMarshall, in his voice reserved for idiots and the elderly, said "Woman, get back in the bed, lay down, calm down and don't fret yourself to death." Ummm, okay. How comez he all lah de dah bout the Prince - the Heir to the Empire - driving 13 hours (he is not doing all the driving-the boys are sharing the load) down I95? Why you all calm about six 18 year old boys on thier first long azz road trip? WTF.

He prompty put it in perspective for me. He said, "We send 18 year old boys to Iraq & Afghanistan, give them guns and send them out on patrol all day to Sunday. I think my son and his friends can handle I95. They were responsible enough to check in about the brakes, they are fine, we will check them when they get here. They know now to take their time & pay attention. They will watch out for each other - just like our kids overseas."

Ummm, well, err, yeah.

He then wraps himself up in this here heavenly bed (we are already in Orlando for vacation & a conference) binky and says, "Would you rather him navigate I95 or navigate IED's? Let the boy be a man. Now go to bed."

He then offered to help take my mind off of the Prince with a game of pocky-poo. Uh, Huh.

The FireMarshall has a valid point. I gotta let The Prince do man like stuff and navigate life on his own. I'm still his Momma - and I'm gonna worry, just a little bit.

I've said my prayer and asked God for Travel Mercies for The Prince and his crew. I ask that if and when you read this, that you throw up a prayer on their behalf.

Safe travels, my Young Men. Love you all - from the KoolAid Momma.

Hmmm...now let me see about this game of pocky-poo.