We all know about piling sheets and towels for the event known as Packing Days. These are the four or five days before you load up the family car for the annual trip to the
The lesser known phenomena are:
The unlikely ensembles we all wear in the remaining days before we leave so that all the clean clothes can stay packed. It’s helpful if you’re basically not very popular so you won’t have to go out in public during this time.
The really inventive meals we come up with to empty the fridge:
Leftover chili alongside scrambled eggs.
Cottage cheese and cold cuts.
Guacamole and pasta.
(You get the idea)
Gathering survival supplies for the wait in front of the
Games squirreled away for when the kids’ patience –and yours – has at last bottomed out. Food that will sustain life long enough to get you over the bridge, but not so much that anyone will need to make a pit stop.
Ditto on all liquids.
How to spot a veteran vs. a newbie in the
The newbies bring suitcases with two weeks’ worth of clothes. They also fill bags and bags with everything they think they could conceivably need – toilet paper, breakfast cereal, bread, and a giant cooler with milk, orange juice and eggs. They then jam everything in the back of the car along with the umbrellas, chairs, sand toys, the family dog, and a child or two. On the plus side, if the cookies are visible, this could mean a healthy stretch of quiet time from the occupants in the back.
The veterans know they will end up wearing the same t-shirt and cargo shorts for days in a row and will have no need of actual shoes. Their suitcases are about one third the size of the less experienced Capers. And they have finally, after fifteen years of doing this, come to the realization that YES, there are grocery stores beyond the