Caught Green Handed

My family goes back and forth to Valdosta a lot, because there are no “real” stores in the small town where we live. By “real,” I mean that there isn’t a Target, Wal-Mart, Winn Dixie, etc. There is a small family owned grocery store, but the prices are considerably higher than the big chain stores, so if I have to buy very many groceries, I will just make the trip to Valdosta.

On our way to Valdosta, we often travel the interstate, because the majority of the stores that I visit are on that side of town. It’s as simple as that. Of course, there are many, many semis on the interstate, which is both a good and bad thing. Some of the drivers don’t seem to pay much attention, and kind of weeble wobble all over the road, and others are more than attentive, staring down into the car windows to see who is in that small car coming up beside them.

My youngest son loves semis. More precisely, he loves the sound of a semi horn. You know, the really loud ones that make you jump out of your seat? That’s the kind he likes. The same way he likes jumping out of corners and from behind doors to scare the daylights out of me.
 
Several weeks ago, the two of us went to Valdosta. He wanted to know if he could take one of his friends along, so I agreed. Naturally, any child who can keep up with my son has many of the same likes and dislikes. So we’re driving down the interstate with each of them talking louder and louder so that the other one can hear him. Imagine that. No matter how many times I asked them to tone it down, it just couldn’t happen.
 
They were talking to each other and trying to get the semis to blow their horns. This, of course, set off a running commentary as to what each driver was doing. Most of them were in their own little worlds, apparently, because no matter how hard the boys motioned, they still wouldn’t blow their horns. The boys would get louder and louder, yelling at the drivers, begging them to honk “just one time!”
 
Some drivers, according to the boys, were reading a book, talking on their cell phones, playing games on their cell phones, talking on the radio, and staring off into space. Isn’t it amazing what you can notice when you have the time to look at people on the interstate? While I’m driving, I don’t have that luxury, but the kids do, if they take advantage of it. Yeah, that’s right. Watch out for my son, because he’s the one who wants to call the police if you’re reading a book while you are driving. Maybe that is his way of punishing the driver for not blowing the horn. (Don’t worry – I didn’t call the police.)
 
One of the drivers was quite memorable. Too bad I didn’t get the company name, but the truck and the trailer were white. There are millions of them out there, so I don’t think the driver has to worry about being found out for his slight crime. Here’s what happened….
 
The boys motioned to the driver of the aforesaid white truck and trailer to blow his horn. He did not. He didn’t because he was busy. Busy doing what, you may ask? Nothing that warranted calling the police, luckily. Instead, he was busy…. Picking his nose!!! This set off gales of laughter from the back seat, as you can imagine. Amidst all the laughter, my son and his friend decided that picking your nose wasn’t the thing to do while driving. The other little boy declared that the driver had been caught green handed.
 
Get it? Green handed, because, as everyone knows, boogers are green. Go ahead, you know you want to laugh. :)
 
Till next time…