Petra and I have been taking Travis to work every morning – it’s not the most efficient or cost-effective way for Travis to commute, but it is the most fun.
Travis drives himself because he’s the most alert member of the group in the morning. And Petra and I provide the entertainment. We sing songs – Twinkle Twinkle Little Star, The Wheels on the Bus.., and Frere Jacques (sung in English because I can’t remember enough of the French. My memory of the English version is shaky as well, but I just improvise and Petra’s none the wiser.) We make up songs as well. Our lyrics aren’t going to win any poetry awards and we shamelessly steal melodies (‘Mama and Petra take Daddy to work, Daddy to work, Daddy to work, on a Monday morning’ is a pretty fair sample of our oeuvre.), but we’re pleased with ourselves even so.
We tell stories. Petra provides the openings (‘Once upon a time there was an old witch on top of the building’ is an example from yesterday) and I finish them.
And we discuss the cars, trucks, and motorbikes around us, as well as checking out the planes flying overhead, the commuter trains disappearing into tunnels on the side of the hills lining the harbour, and the Interislander ferry which departs around 8:30am from its berth right beside the motorway.
If we’re early enough, we stop at the Starbucks closest to Travis’s work (Wellington is not as crammed with Starbuck’s outlets as Vancouver, but it’s pretty well-supplied) for tea, coffee, water and a wee chat with the friendly guy behind the counter.
On the way home, we spot rubbish trucks, police cars, ambulances, whatever is to be seen. Petra told me yesterday that she likes seeing new things every morning. I didn’t intend to keep driving in with Travis but we’ve developed such a nice little routine that I think we’d all miss it if we stop. So we’ll continue to be the ones singing, laughing, and pointing our way through the morning commute.