“Does anyone want to talk to me?” I asked yesterday while in the middle of a 5 hour road trip. No one seemed to be listening to me, and I didn’t hear a response from anyone.

I said it again, louder this time, “Does anyone want to talk? Hello, are you listening?”

Again, silence.

I looked at my husband, who was driving and listening to a book on tape. He had on earphones and couldn’t hear me. He was focused on the road, listening to his book, and had no idea I was talking to him.

I look into the backseat at my two daughters, each were watching Netflix and had on earplugs. They didn’t take their eyes off their screens and didn’t know I was trying to engage them in conversation.

There I sat, talking but not being heard, and a little frustrated that no-one wanted to play with me. A 5 hour road trip can be long, especially when you’re being ignored.

And while it was a peaceful car ride: there’s wasn’t any fighting going on with the kids, no hitting, no yelling, there was also no chatter or connection.

When I was a kid, my brother and I spent the majority of a car ride forcing my parents to play games with us: naming games, license plate games, “I spy” games. They did it, bless them, to keep the peace. I guess they figured it was better than hearing us argue or cry. We also kept a close watch on the middle seat in the back, and should either of us accidentally cross an imaginary line with an appendage, it was grounds for a punch. A hard punch.

I remember my father pulling over onto the side of the road, my parents both yelling at us, threatening us. We must have depleted our supply of Little Debbie cakes and potato sticks, and there wasn’t anything left to do but watch the imaginary line. And one of us always crossed the imaginary line.

Let’s just say it wasn’t pretty.

But, I don’t have to deal with that nonsense since my kids are glued to their technology. At the same time, we aren’t talking, making the road trip feel long to me.

Every once in awhile my kids scream, “I need to go to the restroom,” or “I’m hungry.”

“Sure,” I always say, happy to have someone to talk with.

Three hours into the drive, a text message from Verizon showed up on our phones telling us the kids had depleted their data for the month. Do you know what this meant? They couldn’t watch Netflix anymore. They were forced to talk to me, for the rest of the car ride, and it was fabulous.

At least I thought so.

Find meaning each day,

Dara

If you enjoyed this post, check out: https://crazyperfectlife.com/3170-2/

Join thousands of other people, subscribe to the blog, and get 3 inspirational stories delivered to your inbox each week.