A Side of Rice

Hopefully Humorous (and sometimes R-rated) Musings About Life

The Road More Traveled

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Mom and dad have been busy spending my inheritance.  Or more accurately, the inheritance I will have to share with my three sisters.  In the past 5 years, they’ve been gallivanting all over the place. In addition to visiting various U.S. states, they’ve also been wearing out their passports with trips to Mexico, England, the Carribbean, France and most recently Scotland.  This is amazing on two fronts.

First, my dad has never traveled well.  Wait — let me clarify. Dad never traveled well when he had his wife and young daughters in tow.  Don’t believe me?  Just ask the motel manager he cussed out on the phone during a family vacation in the Virginia country-side.   Dad had called the front desk and told the manager his four daughters had locked themselves out of the adjoining room.  The manager politely informed my dad that there was no possible way that anyone could get locked out of an adjoining room.

Now don’t quote me, but I believe dad’s response to that was: “Well, get your fucking ass up here and I’ll show you how my 4 little Einsteins will blow your fucking theory right out of the fucking water. “  I was only 9 at the time, so I may not be correctly recalling exactly what he said.  It’s possible there may have been a few more “fucks” thrown in there that I  have blocked out  don’t remember.

And don’t even ask me about the “Save the squirrel but kill your whole fucking family” episode.  To this day, I am not able to drive a VW bus because of that experience.

The second reason all this globe-trotting is amazing is because my mom is the barfiest traveler you will ever meet.  She gets motion sickness as a passenger in a car — sometimes when she’s driving.  Boats/ships/trains aren’t any better. She’s nervous and unsettled while flying.  Mom has tried eating ginger, drinking ginger ale, taking Dramamine, and wearing energy/magnetic/copper bracelets. Unfortunately, nothing works.

I’ve suggested she travel separately from dad. I secretly believe he may have something to do with the onset of mom’s queasy stomach once the journey commences. She doesn’t buy that theory and prays the rosary instead.

After their recent trip to Scotland, Dad was kind enough to let us know when they had arrived safely back home.  He sent an e-mail with this picture attached and a message: “Back home. See what Mom dragged home from Loch Ness”:

Just great. Now I will have to split what’s left of my inheritance five ways.

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Author: A Side of Rice

Married, mom, marketing professional. Loves swearing, pedicures and celebrity meltdowns. Hates making dinner and working the little league concession stand.

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