Vacation? One Family Driving from Oklahoma to Florida and Back

There has been some talk recently at our home about going on a vacation. Frankly, I find the idea of this more than a little daunting. Seriously, we are the poster people for "Traveler's Aid" and we will make great guests when they come up with a talk show called "Dysfunctional Family-palooza".

First, there is the decision making process. This simply boggles the minds of two otherwise sane adults for several days. Where do we go? How long should we/can we stay? What would the kids enjoy? Should my parents (my children's only grandparents) come along?

At last, a decision is reached and reservation making can commence. This requires endless hours of Internet research, hunting down deals on hotel rooms and dining so we can be vacationers on a budget.

Packing for a trip- I've actually had nightmares about this. It starts when I am forced to attack Mt. Washmore with a fiery vengeance. And, as an aside, while I am speaking of laundry and fiery, they mean it when they say don't leave home with your dryer running. Just ask my friend who was seen throwing the charred remains of her towels onto her driveway late one night after discovering her laundry was in flames.

The real difficulties start once we get in the car. Six people on a 12 day trip to Florida from Oklahoma are not going to get along the entire time. You know this getting into the vehicle, but still you hold out hope that this time will be different.

There is the invariable bickering over which DVD the kids will watch. Once we get that settled my father begins reading billboards to us. Every. Single. One. He once read every billboard on a 7-hour drive between our home and San Antonio.

Speaking of San Antonio, this is where the "Traveler's Aid" would have come in handy. We were stuck there in a hotel room on the Riverwalk during a 100-year flood. Did I mention that we also had a 4-month-old baby with us and our room was on the ground floor? Our trip consisted of watching the river rise outside our window and wondering if we were going to need to make a swim for it.

Of course, also in the annals of trips to remember would be the one where my cousin and I headed to Florida in 1989 with her 2 small children and our luggage on the roof. Sure, you see where this is going, don't you? Dallas, TX. 5:00 p.m. on a Friday afternoon. Our belongings were scattered across 6 lanes of traffic on BOTH sides of the median. My cousin drove the SUV slowly along the inside lane while I ran behind her picking things up and the children sat in the back pulling them into the vehicle. The moral of this story? Never let an amateur strap your luggage to the roof- that's how I lost my Spuds McKenzie nightshirt.

We have often discussed going to a coastline somewhere for vacation, but realize that a Katrina-like hurricane would in fact hit while we were there.

We do manage to get along fairly well for the first 50 miles or so because my 73 year old father has begun planning what route we will be taking home 12 days usually until someonfrom now. I don't really think it's because he wants to be prepared. I think it has more to do with his instant regret that he has even embarked onthis journey.

I am an anxious person and not a very patient one either. Traffic jams drive me crazy as does my mother every time she gets a chance. In a traffic jam in Atlanta I threatened to put her out of the car and let her catch a Greyhound back to Oklahoma. My mother is an "angry huffer" who can hold a grudge and so we were all treated to the sounds of her heavy breathing for the next two days.

Don't get me wrong. Most of our vacations manage to be more than moderately successful and are always memorable- though usually in a strange way. My mother and I line danced with the children and a cast of Disney characters at "Mickey's Backyard BBQ" and that is the one dance of my life that I cherish the most.