The Road Trip

When it came to my grandmother’s family, New Papa had a gift for creating situations that had very little chance of playing out, or ending well. One summer day he decided to take the youngest 10 fake grandchildren to the Lowertown Acme for his weekly trip. This expedition would arguably be a formidable challenge for someone who enjoyed the company of children. It was inconceivable for someone like New Papa who did not. Still, we all piled into the station wagon in an era unencumbered by seatbelts. When we traveled with New Papa, he was there and we were there, but there was very little conversation between us and everyone was quite content with the arrangement. When New Papa drove, his head bounced like a bobble head doll. None of us sat upfront because it was more fun sitting in the backseat and tailgate where all 10 of us would bobble our heads in unison for the duration of the trip.

We were all aware at a very early age, that driving was not one of New Papa’s strong suits. Shortly into our journey, New Papa swerved to avoid hitting a paper cup in the road and ran over a large rock on the edge, resulting in a flat tire.

To gain access to the spare, it was necessary for all of the grandchildren, to disembark. We all waited patiently on the side of the road for a good 1 to 2 minutes. When it became apparent that this was becoming a day trip as opposed to a short outing to the store, we all started running around like loose cats. Penn and Jack used the time to go small game hunting with their sling shots. Chip and Stain went along somewhat less enthusiastically.

The rest of us stayed out of the way by trying to get lost in the cornfield. Getting lost in the cornfield was a right of passage in which Uncle Herman would blindfold and take each grandchild who had turned 10. Those of us under 10 took advantage of opportunities like these, to practice our homing skills.

It wasn’t always obvious who would win the epic battle of New Papa vs. the tire, but he did ultimately prevail. When we arrived at the Acme, New Papa made a bee-line to the produce manager who knew our fake grandfather by name. New Papa immediately zeroed in on the black bananas that were about to be pitched, and offered to pay half price for them. The grocer was pleased to accommodate him, while we watched incredulously as he procured what would soon be served to us. New Papa continued the bargaining with the perished apples in the discard bin. At this point it was becoming painful for us to watch. We all stood around awkwardly, when Stain and Chip shouted “Supermarket Sweep”. They raced to get 4 more carts. Supermarket Sweep was a popular a.m. TV game show where contestants raced down the aisles in teams of two and three trying to load the most expensive items in their cart. Our home version was a bit more “extreme”. For the youngest of us Little Sinner, it was more about “value” then expense. Little Sinner’s diet consisted of bread and jelly, nothing more, nothing less. When she found herself in a nice restaurant that did not have jelly sandwiches on the menu, she would reluctantly settle for a hot roll and mint jelly. When it came to Super Market Sweep, Jen and I soon learned that our (little Sinner's) cart would have nothing but bread and jelly in it. I knew we had no shot at winning but it was worth it watching Little Sinner selecting jelly like our parents selected wine.

The boys hung out in the beef corridor and Liz, Marigold, and Looper won easily by filling their cart with cosmetics. When New Papa finished at the checkout we all parked our loaded carts neatly in the closest aisle and were on our way.

I don’t recall New Papa ever making any effort to supervise us or even acknowledge that we were with him. I suspect he was just happy to have us preoccupied. There is no question that 10 spirited children enhanced his bargaining leverage, as the store was quite relieved when we left. New Papa subscribed to Darwin's principle of "survival of the Fittest, and thus saw little value to counting heads.  He felt that those of us who were unable to find our way back to the car at the unappointed hour, should be left to fend for themselves even if it resulted in the weakest ones being lost.  In the broader scheme of things, he was not going to miss one or two of us and his life around the farm might be more peaceful.  We, on the other hand were aware of his style of grand-parenting and self-governed.  Foiled, he begrudgingly found  that a station wagon filled with 10 children did not leave much room for 2 carts of groceries. Like water, groceries in an over loaded car "seek their own level".  Consequently, what did not fit upfront with him, spilled over the  grandchildren for the journey back to the farm, and the ten of us survived to annoy another day.