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The Family Trip
As summer in the Northeast ends after seemingly lasting only fifteen minutes, I will take my annual dive into the abyss that is autumn. Before that though, here is a bookend to my previous two attempts (The Dance Recital and Visiting Day) to lighten things up for summer:
We took a family trip to Hershey Park last weekend. Why, you ask? Well, a masochist would say it’s because I enjoy torture. My wife, Lauren, would say it was to enjoy family time with our two children, Liz (5) and Matt (4). An analyst would say it is a test run for the shitshow of Disney World that is coming eventually. Matt would say it’s to eat endless chocolate until he throws up. Should I stop? Okay, fair enough.
Saturday morning
A long day lies ahead. The good – Liz and Matt will be in heaven. Also good – I will get my 10,000 steps in. The bad – the heat, lines, people, germs, Liz and Matt’s behavior at numerous points, and again germs.
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Visiting Day
“You’re an idiot,” my wife, Lauren, affectionately tells me on our drive home from Visiting Day at our daughter Liz’s camp.
“Why?”
“The swimming. Tennis. Kickball!”
“They didn’t even play kickball,” I point out.
“Exactly.”
I take a cookie from my pocket.
“Where did you get that?” Lauren asks. “Did you steal a cookie?”
“Liz raves about these cookies.”
“You just had two ice creams.”
“One-and-a-half … oh, you’re not good with fractions. That’s between one and two.”
“Funny … I think I should be allowed to have an affair. There has to be a law which allows it in special circumstances like these.”
“If you do, can he at least pay for camp?”
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We’re All Deformed
“Your arms are different.”
My five-year-old daughter, Liz, said this to my three-year-old son, Matt, recently.
Matt put his arms up together, compared them, then gave me a quizzical look like, Dad, is she right?
I gave an answer straight from the textbook, “We’re all different. Everyone is beautiful in their own way.”
“But you’re not beautiful, Daddy,” Liz said.
Fair point. 1 <—– CLICK ON THESE RED BOXES FOR MY TERRIBLE JOKES
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