Ahhh…vacation. Palm trees. Mojitos with just the right mix of simple syrup and muddled mint leaf. Waves gently lapping onto the white sandy beach. The occasional scantily clad cabana boy giving me a knowing wink as he jogs by.
Wait a minute. That’s not my vacation. That’s the one in my trashy summer novel…if you can even call it a novel. Let’s back up and start over with preparations for my vacation. Leave work an hour later than planned due to project taking longer than anticipated. Stop by drug store to pick up much needed scrip prior to our 4:30 AM departure (or dawn launch, as we like to call it). Arrive home to discover that not only has Girl 2 not finished packing, but she’s not even close. Excellent.
Pour first glass of wine. Stand in front of closet and determine that all clothes are either:
· Too dated
· Too matronly
· Too career-oriented
· Too mom-like
· Too dorky altogether
· Too too…
Get another glass of wine.
Check on Girl 2’s progress. She has laid out her clothes, but there is no sign of a suitcase, any toiletries. Am told that she has her “to do” bag packed.
Well, thank the Lord Jesus that she will have something to do. Never mind that she will stink, and her clothes will be strewn all over our van…
Check in on Girl 1 for 1st time since arriving home. Suitcase is still open, but all appears to be in order. Wish I had taken photo opp to share with my adoring fans. Your jaws would have hit the floor. Big Strong Man and I have no earthly idea where she received her packing prowess, other than the fact that he is very organized, in general. Aside from that, he and I both tend to overpack. I organize my stuff reasonably well in the suitcase, but there is far too much of it. He throws all of his into the largest duffle ever manufactured by Land's End. It’s a wonder there’s any room left for the rest of our luggage. The thing has no support, so all of his clothes arrive in a rumpled mess. Nice.
Girl 1’s bag...Picture this. Picture the Gap packing a suitcase, so that all items can be seen from any angle from anywhere in the space-time continuum. It’s a feat of modern wonders, really. Add that she’s relatively petite in frame (though 5’7”), and her clothes just don’t seem to take up much room. She manages to fit a lot of clothes into a medium sized bag. Of course, she’s 16, so it’s mostly t’s and cami’s (what else is there at that age?), but again, amazing feat, really. Every single item that she packs can be seen from the top of the suitcase when it’s open. Unbelievable.
Back to my closet. Laboriously, I plan out several (OK, like 10) outfits for our 4 night trip to Chicago. Hey, the weather could do anything. I really pare down my shoe choices and get it down to seven. Did I mention that I am a terrible packer? And yes, I was quite proud of my “paring down”.
Check in on Girl 2. Suitcase is laying (empty) on floor. No sign of Girl 2. I leave her room in search of her. Find Girl 2 watching TV in family room.
Resist urge to grab Girl 2 by neck and squeeze.
With even tone of voice, ask Girl 2 what, for the love of Mike, she is doing.
Girl 2: Watching TV.
Balanced Babe: This seems apparent.
Girl 2: (blank stare)
I feel compelled to offer a brief aside here and just say that this child is "off the charts" intelligent. Like scary smart. Like it truly pains me sometimes to think what her life is going to be like carrying the burden of being this smart. OK, back to our little story hour...
Balanced Babe: Why are you watching television when you haven’t finished packing?
Girl 2: Well, I got my suitcase upstairs, so I thought I could take a little break.
Apparently, hauling an empty suitcase up 13 carpeted steps required a monumental effort. Apparently, this couldn’t have been done in the eight hours while I was gone at work. Apparently, I am a royal freaking biatch, and vacation is going to be a big fat batch of F-U-N!
I think I’ll have another glass of wine.
Balanced Babe