My Bermuda Triangle

I’m fairly confident that if you blindfolded me, put me in your car (preferably not the trunk) took me to a shopping mall that I’d been in at least one time, dropped me in the center of the mall and asked me to direct you to the food court, The Gap, or the nearest restroom, I’d be able to give you clear directions. However, if you stood me outside and asked me to point North, there is only a 25% chance that I’d point in the correct direction.

What can I say, outside of shopping malls, I’m directionally challenged.

I drive about 50 minutes once a year to go see my eye doctor. You may wonder why I drive so far to have my eyes checked, but it’s because my eye doctor and his family have been friends of ours for years and I enjoy visiting with them after my appointments. I’ve gone to see this eye doctor, who has an office in a quaint little town, since I was probably in middle school. Many years have I traveled to this quaint little town nearly an hour away from my  home. And many years have I gotten lost.

The thing is, you can basically take two roads from my house and drive directly to the quaint little town. It’s not complicated, but it’s mysteriously difficult for me. I call it my “Bermuda Triangle.” You know that place in the Atlantic Ocean where people have mysteriously disappeared. Yeah, that’s what happens to me on my way to have my eyes examined.

One year, before I had children (so about 9 years ago) I got particularly lost and called my husband in a panic. I was so lost that I think I may have left the Midwest and may actually have been near the Atlantic Ocean. When my husband finally answered his phone during a meeting because he saw I’d called so many times, he incredulously asked how I could possibly be in a city close to an hour away from where I was supposed to be.

I’m telling you, it’s not my fault. Bermuda Triangle, people.

That day I was an hour and a half late for my appointment. Yes you read that right. As in ninety minutes late. They still squeezed me in that afternoon mostly because I think they felt sorry for me and didn’t know if I’d ever make it back again.

Last week I had to go back to have not only my eyes checked but two of my kiddo’s eyes as well (well, technically 4 eyes on two kids…anyway). With all three kids in the car we set out through the treacherous triangle with very specific instructions from my eye doctor’s wife (who has pretty much given up on my directional abilities at this point) as well as a map on my iPhone. My eight-year-old son has found the blue bouncy ball on the iPhone maps program to be marvelous. He therefore sat behind me telling me exactly where to go including helpful information he could glean from the phone such as “we are now passing a field,” or “there is a pond on our right.”

But I still missed our turn.

So now, the list of those who mock me about my Bermuda Triangle pain has grown from just my husband and Mrs. Eye Doctor to now my son saying, “Mom you missed it!”, “Mom you missed it!”, “Mom you missed it!”, “Mom you missed it!” …”Mom,  how did you not see that road?!”, “Mom, the BLUE DOT IS GOING THE WRONG WAY!!!”

Maybe those people in the Atlantic Ocean disappeared on purpose because of backseat drivers like this?

So seriously, who wants to go to the mall?!