I think I’m on to something big, y’all. HUGE. I’m only about 7 years behind the rest of the world, but I had my first Uber ride last month in Washington D.C. Brian had some work there, and my parents offered to take all three kids so we could have some time alone.
Six days. In a big city. Just the two of us. So, you can imagine what happened as soon as we got to the hotel…
We took a 4 hour nap.
Not even kidding. It was the best sleep of my life.
Oh…wait. Did y’all think I was talking about…?
Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaand there goes my dad.
MAN, it’s good to be back on my blog. I’ve missed tormenting my parents.
Anyway, back to how nice my parents were to take our kids for a whole week so we could “nap” in Washington.
While we were there, I got to experience Uber for the first time. In case you’ve been under the same rock I just crawled out from under, Uber is basically a taxi service that allows smartphone users to “hail” a ride, watch the driver make their way to the pickup location, track the trip through the app the entire ride, send feedback, and probably lots of other things I’ve already forgotten. I fell in love with this service, though, because I felt safer having all the trip and driver info in the palm of my hand.
I’m just going to stop you right here, mom, before you comment on this post about some Uber horror story you saw on Good Morning America or Dateline. I don’t even want to hear it.
Actually, maybe I do. Call me later.
After my first Uber experience, I called Brian in the middle of his work event so he could share in my Uber excitement. I told him all about the friendly driver I had and how this guy is retired and just works whenever he feels like it. Brian was pretty fascinated with the concept as well. And then—THEN!—Brian had the best idea he’s ever had:
Introducing: Uber Mom.
Dream with me, moms. You’re in the car all day anyway, right? WHAT IF Uber had a service where busy moms could sign up to be drivers? Here’s the idea:
Uber Mom: “Kids! Load up. All 4 of you…NOW! Mommy has errands to run, and we have to get to baseball for the 16th time this week.”
Uber Mom: “Oh! And it looks like we’ll have another passenger as well today. Shem, sweetheart? Can you get the soccer goal out of the van so we’ll have room for our passenger? His name is Steve.”
Shem: “Mom, I don’t think it’s safe for you to pick up strangers while we’re in the car and take them places.”
Uber Mom: “Shem, you talk to Grandma too much. Get in the car.”
(Uber mom arrives at local restaurant to pick up her passenger, Steve. She rolls down the passenger window and yells…)
Uber Mom: “STEVE! Is there a Steve here?”
Steve: “I’m Steve. Are you…Uber Mom?”
Uber Mom: “That’s me! Hop on in. KIDS, MOVE OVER! Sorry the van is such a mess, Steve. There’s plenty of room in the way-back between Ham and Japheth. Yeah, just brush the French fries off the seat so they won’t ruin your nice suit.”
Uber Mom: “You like French fries, Steve? There’s at least a Happy Meal’s worth under that seat you’re in. Hey, Ham, pass Mr. Steve a juice box.”
Steve: “That’s okay. I don’t care for any juice.”
Uber Mom: “Sure you do. It’s a bit warm, but it’s organic!”
Steve: “No, really. I’m feeling a bit sick to my stomach. There’s an odor…”
Uber Mom: “I know exactly what you’re talking about. That’s Kale’s diaper. He’s been sitting in it since we left the house, but I haven’t had time to change him. Plus, he had leftover fajitas for breakfast, so that probably didn’t help much. Matter of fact, I’m going to pull over here if you don’t mind. Do you need anything while we’re in Walmart?”
Uber Mom: “I won’t be but a minute. You don’t mind watching Shem, Ham and Japheth, do you? Great. I’ll be back in a flash. I’ll leave you the keys in case anyone gets hot and needs the A/C. Kids, y’all be good and don’t talk to strangers.”
(45 minutes later)
Uber Mom: “Hey, everyone! Sorry that took so long. I ran into Carol from church, and we got to chatting about VBS…and then Kale proceeded to drink a bottle of spicy mustard when I wasn’t paying attention…and then he threw up all over the place. Don’t worry, Steve. I know what you’re thinking…and I won’t charge you for those 45 minutes. That one’s on me. How were the kids?”
Steve: “Um…fine. I guess. They just watched TV the whole time.”
Uber Mom: “Huh. Okaaaaaay. You know, Steve, I like to try to limit their screen time to 30 minutes a day. Y’all didn’t just talk or anything?”
Steve: “No—I was patiently waiting for you to come back so you could take me to my meeting downtown.”
Uber Mom: “That’s right! Steve, I promise I haven’t forgotten about your meeting. We’ll get going right now. I need to swing through and get some gas first, though. Hey, can you find a Kleenex back there and tame that beast climbing out of Kale’s nose? Oh, boy. My gas light just came on. I sure hope we can get there on time. Ha! That’s mommy brain for you!”
Steve: “Mommy brain? MOMMY BRAIN? Lady, if you don’t let me out of this van, so help me…”
(Steve tries to jump out of the van.)
Uber Mom: “Steve, the child lock is engaged, so I don’t think that’s going to work. Now, listen, all this yelling is upsetting Kale, and I’m afraid you won’t like what comes out of his orifices if he really gets to sobbing. Orifices? Is that right? Sounds like ori-feces. Like feces. Gross. Anyway, Steve, can you please reach in the diaper bag and find his paci, his Sophie the Giraffe, and my bra? Don’t ask. It soothes him.”
(Steve digs through the bottomless diaper bag.)
Steve: “Lady, you’re going to get some SERIOUSLY negative feedback for this ride!”
Uber Mom: “Well, Steve, I’m sorry to hear that. I sure have enjoyed this trip. It’s given me a chance to have some adult conversation and to run a few errands. Oh, and that reminds me, I’ll need to swing by the baseball fields on our way downtown for your meeting. Shem has a double header. Hey, Steve. Do you like baseball? Also, how well do you remember algebra? I can’t figure out Japheth’s homework.”
Uber Mom: The Mother of All Cabs
Call me, Uber. We need to talk. But don’t call me between 6 a.m. and 8 p.m. because you won’t be able to hear me for all the screaming and spicy mustard drinking. Kidding. No, but seriously. Email will probably work better.