Three things in life are inevitable–death, taxes, and family vacations. Family vacations guarantee good times, laughter, and an opportunity to see your family members for who they really are (demons).
We spend countless hours planning these fancy little trips with mind numbing web searches, countless phone calls, and price comparisons–would sell our first-born to pay for it if necessary and count down the hours and days until that holy day arrives, BUT cant wait until it’s all over to get the hell back home. (“How was your vacation? It was nice but its good to be home.”)
Vacations aren’t easy. We attempt to make people of varying ages perfectly happy all the while trying not to land a spot on the “needs help with bills” prayer chain at church.
Interestingly enough, we do little to plan for the vacation pitfalls that will most definitely engulf a good portion of one’s trip.
What we are really doing is setting ourselves up for the ultimate failure. We might as well be saying, “Hey why don’t we go to another state and fight? Huh? Sound good?”
For example, rain–not a normal rain–but monsoon season type rain (inherently seems to follow us) on a day when all your outdoor activities were planned (perrrrrrfect), or the quick trip to the children’s museum that eats up a good portion of your day because your kids were having soooooo much fun (they need so much freaking attention), or not being able to go ATVing/horseback riding/white water rafting/zip lining (or anything else fun for that matter) because your kids are just about 16 ounces and half-inch shy of the necessary requirements to be safe (liability schmiability). Who cares!!!!! Let them ride the damn horse!
Now kids certainly put a whole new level to the meaning of “kink” in our plans. I mean I would looooove to just drink for an entire day. Is that so wrong? But noooooo we’ve got the children to think about.
I would love to ride the Traveling Bartender Peddle Hopper but noooooooo you have to be 21 and over. And heaven forbid they put a bar in at least one of these kid friendly places (they’d make a killing).
Something else that is a no fail guarantee is that when we finally do arrive, the question that is always on everyone’s lips is “What do you want to do?” We’ll, I’m pretty sure that I just spent a freaking month answering that very question before we left in the hopes to avoid THAT question.
Finally, the saddest part of it all is when you see the monumental excitement displayed by each family member (you just flew halfway across the country might I add) when on the way to the airport you provide them with a Taco Bell burrito and the promise of an ice cream cone upon finishing it. Really?