I need to make friends with some theoretical physicists. Perhaps they would be able to lend some comprehension the baffling and consistently problematic issue of the minivan exit. When I park, I can exit a vehicle in less than 4 seconds. 5 if I have to find my phone. My kids, however seem to get stuck in some sort of time warp. They have arrived at the destination at the same time as I have and yet, time creeps by as I endure the excruciating wait for them to make it out. They take forever to emerge from the door while I wait…. and wait…… and wait.
If companies really want to capture my attention with advertisements, these are the moments they should set their sites to capitalizing on. I’d watch any ad throw in my face rather than remain idly by an open car door, trying to process the wait. Nothing can be worse than standing there waiting for my kids to finally emerge from their steel cocoon over and over and over again, day in and day out. The worst part is that I watch the entire progression and I still can’t tell you what’s happening to delay them. It’s like they are suddenly underwater, wrapped in molasses, going uphill against a strong wind with a parachute tied to their rear.
Perhaps this is where the perceived slow motion adults experience in nightmares comes from. It’s a vestige from when we were children and were suddenly stricken with unresponsive muscles and lethargic responses when it came to getting out of a car. Only now as parents we actively live the nightmare from the other side. I envision that from their perspective it’s like a horror movie where the character is making his or her way down a hallway that has suddenly elongated; the doorway to freedom stretching further and further away.
For now, I’ll just hope they will pick up the pace and move out of the van in a normal fashion. If not, I’m going to start taking my kindle with me on rides. I’ll wind up finishing enough materials to match The Library of Congress’ in roughly a week. If you can explain this phenomenon, please help me to understand. Make charts and graphs. You’ll likely find me standing in the driveway, weeping to myself as precious moments of my life flitter away.
**Thanks Tucker for making me hyper aware of this.**