Hawaiian Vacation: Then and Now

Then: Two days before vacation: bikini wax, pedicure, spray-on tan, epic 4 hour shopping trip in search of the perfect bikini to show off cute butt.

Now: Two days before vacation: realize you haven’t contacted anyone to take care of Harryboy the cat and Twinkle the gay Russian dwarf hamster in your absence. Scramble madly. Cancel milk delivery, newspaper, mail. Dig out summer clothing for children; wash. Dig out summer clothing for husband; wash. Neglect to dig out and wash own clothing.

Then: Day before vacation: Throw the half-and-half for coffee down the drain. Try on all prospective cute outfits and shoe combinations; pack.

Now: Day before vacation: Clean copious detritus out of refrigerator. Contemplate whether your refrigerator qualifies as a biohazard. Pack each child’s bag with laundered clothing, favorite lovey, coloring book/crayons, favorite snacks, dvd’s. Pack personal carry-on bag with wipes, pull-ups, little girl undies, extra (2) pairs of little girl capris, 1 extra pair of big girl capris, 2 emergency activity books, tissues. Neglect to pack own paperback novel.

Then: Morning of departure: Double check contents of suitcase; zip.

Now: Morning of departure: Throw any unwashed warm-weather item of clothing you can find from the closet floor into own suitcase, add flip-flops, search crazily for the one swimsuit that hides your big butt.

Then: At ticket counter: Smile widely, make chit-chat with ticketing agent, mention coyly that you’re getting married in Hawaii, score free upgrade.

Now: At ticket counter: Snarl at youngest child for licking the entire length of the ticket counter. Fumble for identification. Throw down all bags, search each for identification, bark at husband to keep an eye on The Licker. Present identification. Hear coughing and keening sound. Turn around. Watch as older daughter hacks viciously and vomits on your shoes. Apologize profusely to ticket agent, hiss at husband to “handle the ticket thing” and escort your wailing child to restroom. Clean off child’s face and hands. Rinse off shoes. Apply hand sanitizer to all exposed skin.

Then: Pre-boarding: Buy water, gum, mints. Tally: 6 dollars.

Now: Pre-boarding: Buy 3 extra bottles of hand sanitizer, 2 extra containers of travel tissues, 2 extra containers of hand wipes, 3 rolls of cough drops, 1 box of Tylenol cough/cold, 2 bottles of 7-up and several boxes of graham crackers. Tally: 48 dollars.

Then: In-flight: Receive complimentary “good luck!” mini-bottles of champagne. Kiss fiancee. Enjoy novel and in-flight movie.

Now: In-flight: Shake head, stunned, when The Licker consumes all of the planned snacks for the (6-hour) flight in 45 minutes.
Ward off hostile stares/reproachful glares as older daughter continues to cough, non-stop, for duration of flight. Parcel out cough drops, Tylenol, tissues, 7-up. Worry that she’s sounding asthmatic. Search carry-on bag for inhaler. Ask husband to search his bag for inhaler. Inhaler Fail.

Then: 4.5 hours into flight: summon flight attendant, order another bottle of mini-champagne. Kiss fiancee.

Now: 4.5 hours into flight: watch in horror as older daughter gags on another cough and spews monstrous amount of masticated 7-up, graham cracker, and in-flight pretzel pack all over her tray table and portable dvd player. Sit, immobilized, as vomit drips off of tray table onto daughter’s lap, your lap, floor of airplane, carry-on luggage. Summon flight attendant. Begin to weep and hyperventilate. Perform the vomit-laced walk of shame with child towards the bathroom. Allow two extremely kind Hawaiian Airlines flight attendants to cordon off the entire back of the airplane. Strip child and self down to skivvies, hope nobody objects to the sight of your ass, attempt to clean up.

Then: 4.75 hours into flight: go to restroom, pee, freshen lipstick.

Now: 4.75 hours into flight: fill out medical release forms for Air-Medic so asthmatic child can receive emergency inhaler kept on board. Wonder how much this is going to cost you. Berate yourself for being a shit mother. Wince as they make the announcement over the intercom for all passengers with medical backgrounds to buzz the flight attendant due to a medical emergency on the plane. Wave weakly to own husband as he heads to the back of the plane.

Then: Arrival: Thank flight attendants profusely for the upgrade and the champagne. Call honeymoon limo for transport to hotel.

Now: Arrival: Wait until all passengers disembark. Slink, red-faced off the plane. Begin to thank flight attendants. Burst into tears. Shlep odiferous carry-on luggage, self, child and entourage outside. Attempt to calm down while husband arranges transport to hotel.

Then: Arrive at honeymoon suite, forget any signs of fatigue, fling open suitcase, don butt-revealing swimsuit, frolic in waves with fiancee.

Now: Arrive at condo/villa, prevent The Licker from jumping into the koi pond, immediately start washing machine for vomit elimination, shower…tell husband that you are never having sex again.

Tagged as: family vacation hell, unbelievably bad plane trips