It was going fine till it wasn’t.
I don’t really know how it started, 
to be completely honest. 
 
One minute we were nodding along 
to whatever was playing on the radio,
the next they were yelling at each other, 
all their pent up aggression revealing itself 
at the worst possible moment.
 
I mean seriously, 
did this (much needed) confrontation 
really have to take place in the middle of the road? 
I, for one, would have rather not risked my life 
when there were still 5 hours left till we reached home.
 
Tears streamed down my face,
I remember I had screamed for them to calm down.
Slightly hypocritical,
but you can’t really bring a sword to a gunfight, as they say.
Can a diplomat truly expect to be heard in 
the midst of an all out screaming match?
 
We pulled over in the breakdown lane, 
they got out of the car. 
Mom and I stayed behind; 
it wasn’t our fight to begin with. 
(It really was, but a world where I 
embrace confrontation is a world 
we do not currently live in)
 
They came back eventually, 
but not before flipping each other off. 
A few passers-by faltered, but ultimately 
moved on with their days.
Not their fights to interrupt either, I suppose.
Smart choice.
 
They got back into the car.
Mom declared that she would be driving now,
stripping them of the freedom of an open road.
We drove till we caught up with 
the rest of the family,
then split up into separate cars.
 
Four hours to go.