This weekend my family and I went to one of the many rod runs we attend every year. A rod run is an event involving modified vintage cars called street rods. Some last a weekend or more, some only a day. This one was in Port Angeles sponsored by the street rod club Old Timers Northwest.

I mention the sponsor because it is one of the more fun car shows we attend. It’s a smaller run, with probably only 150-200 cars, as opposed to some of them that can have several hundred to 1000’s of cars. They also have a band on Saturday night, they throw “funny money” for people to gather to use for an auction on Sunday, and the scenery is spectacular during their poker run, which is an opportunity for the rods to go on a scenic 50 mile cruise. Poker runs have participants traditionally collecting cards at set stops. The best poker hand wins. Old Timers have gone off the beaten track with the tradition, making it quirky and even more fun with their crazy themes every year.

We don’t make it to this rod run every year because it’s a gas commitment with our motor home, but when we do, we look forward to it. Well, my husband and I look forward to it, my kids used to look forward to it, but now they are both officially no fun.

It took me awhile to figure out it was my kids and not me who were no fun anymore. I should have clued in quicker, but we mothers tend to feel responsible for the quality of our children’s entertainment.

On the poker run, I made my children get out of the car to see some interesting sights the Old Timers set up for the rod run attendees. We saw the Dungeness School house that was a working school house from 1863 to 1955 and lavender fields. I think they had fun, although it is hard to tell with teens.

During the Show and Shine (the cars park so the public can view them), I did not make them go on the two hour city tour, but instead went to the Anime store and patiently waited while they browsed. We also got ice cream and window shopped until dad was ready to head back to camp.

It was Saturday night when I finally figured out it wasn’t me who wasn’t fun. The rod club fed us a fantastic lasagna dinner. The King Brothers were the dinner band that played 50’s, 60’s and 70’s classics. I think my daughters were enjoying the band, but only really showed a spark when all the diners started batting balloons around the dining hall.

A few people started dancing, and although my husband and I are not much on dancing, when the band started playing “Do the Twist,” I had a flashback to when my kids were little and wanted to go out and do the twist. I turned to them and said, “Do you remember when you were little and we all went out and danced to this song?” I heard nothing but crickets chirping in their heads as they did not seem to recall the memory.

“Remember? It was back when you were still fun and liked to twirl and chase the funny money at this show.”

They stared at me like I had lost my mind; like they would never have done such a thing as that. I sighed, watched other people’s little kids and longed for the days when my kids were fun.

After dinner, my kids went back to the RV to become one with their electronics and my husband and I went to watch the next band that was lined up for the night’s entertainment, Chasing Mona. About midway into the night, I began to relax. My husband and I even cut a rug a couple times since the kids weren’t around to embarrass. It was then I realized my children were oppressing me; they were holding me back from having fun.

Maybe next year we’ll leave them at home.