Traditional GPS or The Mom Mom?

I love the road less traveled! Through the years, I have suffered unending ridicule from friends and colleagues concerning my questionable sense of direction and my nonchalant attitude when attempting to get to appointed destinations.  I have always preferred the scenic route, that much is true, but my internal bio-sonar system genetically rivals that of a bat.  I can spend all day swooping down on prey with lightening speed, ie Stein Mart prime parking spaces, and locking in on targets like Starbucks.  But, eventually I flap my way back to the cave of my choosing. Yes, I always arrive at my desired destination…or at least a destination that proves more interesting.

I do not own a Global Positioning System because of my expert skill of echolocation, as referenced above. For some reason, I also become mean and irritable in their monotone, know-it-all presence.  I do not like me when I am I a vehicle sporting a GPS, especially sassy ones like Wilma, Velma, whatever. (I have blocked her name from my memory as a defensive mechanism to thwart her control.)

My frolleague (friend and colleague), Julie, owns Velma and she is a Grinchy Garmin; Velma, not Julie!  Velma goes with us to conferences and workshops throughout the region, ensuring that we arrive at our desired destination.  Increasingly, Velma makes me nervous and tense, two emotions I do not enjoy on the open road.  I grow weary of her constant demands, and the condemnation I detect in her voice.  Velma is also irritatingly passive-aggressive.  Case in point:  On a recent work-related trip it was my turn to drive and Julie brought Velma. She, Julie, had programmed her, Velma with addresses of the workshop and our hotel. (Although, between me and you, sometimes I wonder who is programming who in their relationship….I’m just saying.)  We were close to the workshop location, running a little late, and traffic had been horrendous for the entire two hours we had been on the road.  Velma said, “Turn left and u-turn….turn left and u-turn, turn LEFT AND U-TURN NOW….sigh… recalculating….turn left, then go two miles….sigh…recalculating.”  I lost it…. Starbucks Mocha Latte spewed from my mouth as I yelled, “There are “NO U-TURN” signs everywhere, bitch!  I am driving in Charlotte rush hour, so SHUT THE HELL UP!  And it’s Charlottetown Road, Not Char-lot-a-town Road!” 

Granted, yelling profanities at technological devices while correcting their pre-programmed annunciation is grossly immature, but ripping her ass out of the dashboard wasn’t an option.  Velma knew where we were headed…Angie did not.  After my outburst, Velma grew strangely quiet and I had a sinking feeling that she was busy plotting her revenge.  Several miles later, she said, “Turn right NOW… onto US 77 Business.”  I was in the far left lane, going 70 miles an hour with cars bumper to bumper in all four lanes.  Then she said, “recalculating,” in an unmistakably condescending tone. Royal Bitch.  We arrived at our destination, and as Julie hustled into the conference, I took solace in watching the seconds tick down on Velma’s screen until she fell fast asleep.  Game Over, Battle Ax.

But honestly, Velma is not the only GPS that rattles me. A few years ago I gave my fiancé, Tom, a GPS for Christmas. I don’t know her official name, but I know she is a Slut. She flirts with Tom continuously and yesterday, I swear she giggled, and called him Honey.

I have given this a lot of thought and I believe it would be beneficial for me to design my own, personalized GPS.  I would call it The Mom Mom. She would boast several different personality options, thereby allowing me to choose the one I wanted based on my emotional, physical, and spiritual state at any given point in time.

For example:  The Whinny Kids option for when I needed to get somewhere quickly.  “Turn Riiiiightttt, I’m huuuuungry.  When are we going to beeeeeee there?!” she would screech. Dogs everywhere would begin to howl as she droned on, “ Follow the highlighted roooooute, My DS’s battery is deeeead!”  

If I were having self esteem issues, I could choose the smooth, crooning voice of Barry White.  Yeaaah, Baby.  You look soooo good, behind the wheel of that minivan, turn left onto Main Street.  Take your time….Cause I Can’t Get Enough Of Your Lovin….Arriving at destination on the right, yeaaaah, the Forest Day Spa.  Enjoy your appointment, you deserve it, Looking soooo fine.”   

Finally, there would be the Tele-Evangelist voice option, for when I am facing a moral dilemma, or haven’t been going to church regularly. “You-wa are coming to a fork in the row-ad.  Which path are you goo-wing to take?  The one on the left is the Path of Repentance, and the shorter, more direct route on the right will lead you straight to Hell-ha!  Confess your sins-ha or make that turn on Lucifer’s Cul-de-Sac-ha.  Fire-ha and-ha brimstone-ha await you-ha if you don’t-ha u-turn, now-ha.  Arriving at Community Christian Church of the Guilty Conscious, on right.  And all God’s children, can I hear an amen?  AMEN!”

The Mom Mom would be available in 42 colors, including tangerine, mocha, and canary.  Projectile vomit-proof, with a nearly indestructible shell, also available in 42 colors, The Mom Mom would be safe for children 12 mos. and up. Once approved by the FDA, with one touch, the device will shoot out yummy chicken nuggets or grilled cheese sandwiches directly to the back seat for hands-free, on-the-road snacks.  And when the power is off, the screen doubles as a handy make up mirror.  Pre-programmed destinations would include: Forest Day Spa , Speedy Drop and Go Daycare (liability forms pre-signed), and CVS (for picking up Mommy’s Prescriptive Helpers!) Of course, The Mom Mom is patent-pending and compatible with you Bedazzler.

So, look for it soon at K & B Toys, BabiesRUs, and your local Christian book store …brought to you by Rowdy Moms everywhere and Tyco!