On Friday morning, fresh from signing the papers on our NEW BAT MITZVAH VENUE, we hopped in the car to drive Emily to Ann Arbor, Michigan for a two-day jaunt. One of her camp friends was having a bat-mitzvah party and we agreed to take her for the weekend. The timing wasn’t the greatest, as we had to miss the annual Yummy Mummy Club trip to Ottawa for Winterlude, and because now that we actually have a new venue we have about eleven million things to make happen between now and March 10th.

But. We hopped into the car anyway.

And I’m glad I did, because I swear to god, you guys, I want to move to Ann Arbor. The AliMartell Syndrome, ahoy!

Apparently there’s a rule that the driver gets to choose the music on road trips because he or she needs to be alert and happy or something. I find this rule to be incredibly unfair because being the driver is easier. When there are children in the back two rows of a minivan, the job of the person sitting shotgun is kind of crappy.

The person sitting shotgun has to: get the snacks, get the drinks, hold the drinks, open the drinks, pick up the fallen drinks, hold the snacks, pick up the fallen snacks, break up the fights, pick up the fallen snacks—again, pass the ipads, break up the fights over the ipads, find the missing markers, pick up the fallen markers.

The driver has to: drive, whilst whistling.

Now I know what you’re asking…Ali, why don’t you just drive then? The answer is simple, really. I’m way too ragey to drive, and we’d likely never get to our destination. It’s better for everyone when I don’t drive. Except for my ears, of course.

So. The husband does the driving. And I do the constant lion-taming and getting-of-things.

And he gets to pick what we listen to.

POP MUSIC.

And on this particular road trip, the pop music of choice was Maroon 5 and Owl City because on Tuesday we are taking a family trip to see them in concert. I AM A GOOD MOM. And, don’t get me wrong. I quite adore Adam Levine, and his lovely backside, but I find most of his music to, well, just not be my jam. And I realize I am in the minority here, since Facebook was super quick to tell me how many Maroon 5 fans are out there.

Anyway, I found my own entertainment. In the form of this little addiction I have. (I’M HORRRIFED, by the by) Candy Crush Saga.

Oh my god, you guys. Addicted is an understatement. Because I am cheap I refuse to pay for anything in this game. Also, I’m incredibly principled.

Not principled enough to not bend the rules a wee bit, though. Because there’s a way to get more lives. THERE’S A WAY TO GET MORE LIVES without begging/annoying/irritating people on Facebook, and without paying an extra cash.

It’s the Candy Crush Time Travel!

Step 1: Womp, womp. You get the notice that you have no more lives. You have two choices. You can a) ask your friends. NYET or b) you can pay $.99 for more lives. DOUBLE NYET. But rest assured, there’s a third option!!

Step 2: Open your phone’s date and time. It’s under settings > general > date & time. Turn Set Automatically off.

Step 3: Set the time a few hours ahead.

Step 4: Immediately open up the Candy Crush app. See your 5 new lives pop up. IMMEDIATELY go back into your date & time settings and turn Set Automatically back on. Your time should only be changed ahead for about a minute. You lose nothing, nothing changes. 

Step 5: Lather, rinse, repeat.

And if you are stuck on level (GAH NOW IT’s 305!) like I am, you will find yourself sitting in a car on the drive home from Ann Arbor taking breaks between looking at Michigan real estate, TIME TRAVELING.