the Hippo Brigade

Vacation Goggles

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January 5, 2012

I knew it was over the second we parked the car back in the garage.

“Why did you park all crooked? Now I can’t even open my door without hitting the wall.”

“I didn’t park crooked, I parked correctly. The word you are looking for is cor-rec-tly. If you parked this neat and straight every time it wouldn’t seem so foreign to you now.”

“Whatever.”

“Whatever your mom.”

Yup. It completely vanished.

I’m talking about those vacation goggles you wear when you’re abroad with your mate and everything about them is splendid and romantic.

It’s like a suspended reality where you can say things like, “I really like your sweater,” and there’s no fear of it being misconstrued as an ironic jab sent to destroy your self confidence for the rest of the day by making you question the top half of your wardrobe. Is it just that it’s a little bunchy around my armpits? Or is the color all wrong? That’s it, I’m donating this sweater when I get home.

I blame the kids.

Most of the time they’re awesome, but the rest of the time they make me uptight and snappy. Not snappy in a good way where you move to the beats in your head, but snappy in the way where I want to punch people in the mouth all the time. But I don’t because I’m well-adjusted. Instead I make quips. Mainly to the dog. Calling her a selfish wanker and a fat turd really takes the edge off. That’s what dogs are for, right?

We went to Big Sur for Pat’s birthday.

Talk about taking the edge off. Especially following Christmas massacre of 2011  the birth of Jesus Christ our Lord and Savior.

I think we should take a vacation a day after Christmas every year. It’s like a Christmas detox.

And being in the great outdoors is the perfect detox from a slew of towering plastic toys brimming out of our playroom and cascading all over every inch of my home.

Yay! Toys…

Next year I’m getting my kids a box of sticks and an old corn cob. Because you don’t need to take the batteries out of your remote control to power a corn cob.

But a nice trip away was perfection.

 

We even braved a flat tire on the side of Highway 1 with no cell reception, a damaged spare tire, and no one to help for miles, and we giggled about it.

Giggled.

If that happened while we were at home there would be no such laughter, we’d be placing blame and pointing fingers, and there would be tears, a fire, possibly a polar bear wearing a top hat, definitely a rifle, and the whole thing would end in blood.

But we laughed it off (after we realized we weren’t going to die, and after I chewed half of my hair off), and enjoyed our ride down the coast in a tow truck with Greg our surprisingly informative driver who told us everything we ever needed to know about elephant seals, topography and politics.

So, in conclusion, go on a trip after Christmas, and be sure to wear your vacation goggles, but try not to take them off  too soon when you get home, and hopfully some of that vacation cheer will spill over into your real life, and watch out for polar bears in top hats, and be sure to floss, and always use short consice sentences instead of run-on sentences, because run-on sentences can make you appear disorganized and uneducated, and get your kids sticks and corn cobs for Christmas next year, they’ll appreaciate your effort of not making them into entitled little brats, plus maybe there wouldn’t be so many of those stupid matchbox cars EVERYWHERE that make you say unsavory words when you step on them.

The end.