As the P-Dawg and I prepare to leave for our upcoming RV road trip, I find that I have some questions. Questions like, “What will we eat?”, “Will there be nightly turn-down service?”, “Do I need a ham radio?” and “How do you drive an RV?”
My husband for his part can’t wait to get behind the wheel of our rented motor home. I asked him earlier if he had any reservations at all about driving it and he said, “I was born to drive an RV.” The RV that I rented is thirty feet long and about ten stories high. So when P-Dawg and I are on the open road, we will be in a position of great power, like truckers. For example, if you pass us and make the international horn honking symbol, we will have the option to ignore you or oblige. We will also be able to tell whether or not you are wearing pants.
Every self-respecting trucker needs a road handle, and P-Dawg and I are no different. I spent a lot of time thinking up a good one for him (“Doc Shamrock”) but when I revealed our CB handles earlier this evening he admitted that he would prefer to just go by “P-Dawg” instead. Which is fine. I myself will be the “Tessmanian Devil,” or “T-Devil” or even just plain old “She-Devil” for short. I have also been boning up on trucker lingo so that while we are crawling down the interstate in the granny lane, I’ll be able to yell out things like, “Breaker! Breaker! Ease up on the hammer, flyboy, I see disco lights ahead.”
Also, did you know that in trucker lingo, an attractive woman passenger is called a SEAT COVER and a rest area is a pickle park?
From here on out, Jonas and V-meister shall be known as “the little anklebiters” and if we hit a cow on the interstate, we are going to have steak on the grille.
But I really hope that doesn’t happen.
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