time warping road trip

it was somewhere between scotsboro and chattanooga. the van sat gas-filled, loaded, and parked in the side area of a country gas station. the kids, in true-form and following the laws of classical conditioning announced that they were hungry and thirsty for snacks that the sign laden mart sold, forgetting that they ate not but thirty minutes ago. i get out of the front seat and come around to the kids' door. inside the empty space near the door is a big jug of ice water. while the cap to the jug doesn't magically transform into a cup, and i haven't previously made peanut butter and jelly sandwiches on the top of the green metallic coleman cooler, i kind of have a time warpy feeling. i feel myself watching mom and dad whipping out pb&j sandwiches and passing them around the car wrapped in paper towels. we will all eat them (even the crusts- leaving the crusts was for rich people), and then once our meal was done, back on the road and fifteen minutes of quiet time-or else quiet time until the baby falls asleep.