We told the boys that we would take them out west to California one of these days.
That day finally came this summer at the end of August. We barely squeaked back home the day before school started.
I envisioned a warm relaxing trip to Los Angeles. After all, it is named the City of Angels.
Soft, sandy beaches and warm, Western sunbeams … the trip had me just as excited as the kids.
Then the news came.
“Honey, I can not make the flight down there with you and the boys because I have a meeting,” my husband managed to blurt out over dinner.
“But I will be there a day after you, and then we will all fly back together.”
Somewhere between chewing and swallowing I managed to let out a loud sigh.
No, not me and all of those boys on one small plane for three hours and 45 minutes. I don’t think I can do it.
Before I knew it, we were on the way to the airport, me and the boys.
We dropped our car off at the parking area and rode the shuttle bus over to the terminal.
My youngest son was fascinated with that shuttle bus.
“Is this our new car with a new driver?” he asked excitedly.
I told him that the bus would drop us off so we could catch the flight.
That was not good enough. He asked me over and over about that shuttle bus.
Where did that bus go when it left us here?
Will we ever see our car again?
Will that bus pick us up when we get to California?
Thankfully, when we boarded the plane he became distracted.
I had packed all of the boys’ goody bags full of their favorite snack items and handheld games.
He and son number three kept pulling the goody bag from under the seat in front of them and putting it back, over and over.
I could sense that the people sitting in those seats were becoming irritated.
Okay, I did not have to sense it. They gave us a few mean looks.
I stopped the boys and put all the snacks in their seat.
Then, sons number one and two went to the bathroom. Why did they have to do that? Couldn’t they hold it for three measly hours? NOOOOOO!
You guessed it: Son number four decided he had to go, too.
He was intrigued by the way the toilet flushed while we were still flying. He wanted to flush it over and over again.
Once we returned to our seats he decided he had to go again and wash his hands and then one more time to “use” it. Three times in 20 minutes. After the last time, I told him, “NO MORE!!”
Some relaxing vacation, I thought. I could just see my husband sipping ice tea while resting his head on one of those airplane pillows on his flight up.
HMMMM!!!
Anyway, we made it to California. We went to the beaches, museums, amusement parks and relatives’ homes. We had a blast.
I had to hold back the tears when I thought about the fact that son number one will be going to college in three years and these family trips are going to change.
How much I will miss him, and then son number two leaving just a couple of years after him. I wanted to stop time and hold my children and never let go.
I am sure all mothers feel that way from time to time.
Before we knew it, the trip was over and it was time to head back to St Louis.
On the way home, the boys sat in one row and I put my husband right next to them.
Some call it revenge.
Thanks for sharing.