Trunk, open!

We stepped down off the airport shuttle bus, and walked over to our rental car. We rolled our bags to the back, and I said to my seven-year-old son, “The trunk opens by voice command. Would you open it?”

“What do I do?” he asked.

“You just have to say, ‘Trunk, open.’”

He looked at the trunk and said, “Trunk, open.”

Nothing happened, and I said, “You have to say it like you mean it.”

“Trunk, open!” He said loudly.

Before our eyes, the trunk popped open.

“Wow, cool!” he said, and quickly closed the trunk, and once again commanded, “Trunk, open!”, and once again it opened.

When he tried it a third time I felt an eye from his mother.

“Let’s get everything loaded. Grammy will be excited to see us,” I said.

We loaded our bags, I closed the trunk with one hand, keeping the other in my pocket, as I knew what was going to happen.

“Trunk open,” came the command.

I closed the trunk, and instantly heard, “Trunk open!”

This time I didn’t feel her eye, but I saw it. In a flash of a second it said, “We were up early, we didn’t sleep much, it has already been a long day, and I hope you stop this soon.” The trunk had now been open at least six times.

“Hey, buddy, we really should go see Grammy,” I said, escorting him to the back seat. I buckled him in, got in the driver’s seat, and quickly started the car.

“Trunk, open,” I heard from the back seat, and nothing happened.

“Trunk, open!” He tried again, louder.

“Dad, I think it’s broken.”

“No,” I said with some authority, “It’s a safety feature. Once the car starts you can’t use the command to open the trunk.”

Minutes later we were on our way, winding through memories of tunnels, grassy hills, and favorite stops. There were only a couple other times on the trip when I had to make sure my hand was in my pocket, ready with the remote key controller. Otherwise he was happily distracted by all there is to do with grandparents.