Although first referred to as slug bug, I’ve always referred to this car game as punch buggy and if you are unfamiliar with this particular game, it involves the following frivolity: when one person in the car you are riding in spots a Volkswagen Beetle, they call out the color and the term punch buggy (or slug bug) and hits whoever else is riding in the car. For good measure, one must also call out, no punch backs, or run the risk of receiving a punch in return for a punch. While I don’t recall playing this game when I was really young, I do recall playing the punch buggy version on a road trip with a college best friend who played with all seriousness packed into her shoulder punch.
According to the Volkswagen company, they traced the first use of the term slug bug back to 1964 saying according to “a 1964 edition of the Arizona Republic, a columnist “wrote a question-and-answer with his daughter, who tells him, ‘I think slug bugs are cute.’” However, the first reference to a punch buggy did not come for another 14 years. According to Volkswagen, while slug bug was popular in the Midwest, punch buggy gained popularity in 1978 on each of the coasts. Even when the Beetle ceased production before coming back in its newer, sleeker form, the game has lived on. Whether or however you play it, the origins supposedly date back to the 1960s and are said to have derived from bored American children (though the lore from Volkswagen around the game’s backstory involving an inventor named Sluggy Patterson created for a Volkswagen ad has been widely shared and enjoyed through the years).
Whatever its true origin, we introduced this car trip game to our teenagers when they were pretty young and they have always enjoyed yelling out the color alongside the term punch buggy for years now. While some of the silly fun has faded for our 17 year old, I love that my 15 year old still loves to spot punch buggies as we drive around our city. And, every now and again, I like to spot one when I’m driving my 17 year old to an activity or appointment and tap her affectionately on the shoulder because even if she doesn’t necessarily enjoy the game any longer, it is an opportunity to connect with a moment of silliness and a small smile.
Today, as we drove back from a spontaneous mini road trip to a new library about 40ish minutes from where we live, mostly so we could retrieve a pair of earbuds from my 17 year old, it was a picture-perfect autumn day. On the way to the library it was a bit too cool for the windows to be down, but the sun was shining brilliantly in the sky and the colors of the leaves were dazzling. I loved seeing the way some of the trees whose top leaves had all fallen away already stood like skeletoned branches against the rich blue of the fall sky. It was a wonderful day for a drive and I loved spending that time with each of my girls, both on the drive and exploring the new library space that offered some options our usual library doesn’t have.
After spending way longer there than I planned, we finally started home and about halfway there my youngest called out from the back that she’d spotted a Cybertruck. Next to the punch buggy, spotting a Cybertruck has become a fun drive time game. Her sister and I both missed the one she saw—it was travelling in the opposite direction and I didn’t get a chance to fix my eyes on it before it disappeared into the horizon in my rearview mirror. However, only a few moments later, as we rolled up to a stoplight, I spotted yet another Cybertruck, this time in my passenger sideview mirror. We found it amusing to be oh-so-close to a Cybertruck, having mostly only seen them in passing (including a bright-as-the-sun yellow one my 17 year old and I saw one day on our way to an appointment).
As the truck turned off the main road, my 17 year old made me laugh when she suggested there should be a game associated with the Cybertruck like the one for the punch buggy. It was a brilliant idea and without hesitation I declared it should be Cybertruck Karate Chop, which set all of us to laughing at the ridiculous genius of my idea. We haven’t initiated it—yet. But I foresee some delight and giggles in some of our future car rides knowing that I plan to execute the first Cybertruck karate chop ever performed (and I look forward to being noted in Tesla’s history of the game at some point, like the slug bug girl).
I love afternoons like today. I love them especially because I wasn’t at my best when my 17 year old told me she thought she left the case for her earbuds back at the library, the very same earbuds we’d come to retrieve in the first place. While I appreciate that my girl understood my frustration, I reminded her that my reaction did not match the circumstances and I apologized (more than once because I felt it was warranted) for my overreaction—including and especially my yelling at her—over an earbud case. I love that she affords me grace. I love that she knows that I love her even when I behave poorly. I love that she forgives me. I love that my girls join me in my silliness and that they see me for who I am and love me in spite of my shortcomings. Mostly, I love that I get to share life and spontaneous road trips and Cybertruck karate shop with these two amazing young women.