For months I have pissed myself every single time I thought about going on vacation with my kids. Partly because they can go from cute kittens to not so cute kittens in
five two seconds. Partly because, even though they talk all the time, the conversation is always a bit, well, childish.
Going south seemed obvious, because, you’re gonna want sunshine and a proper escape if you’re gonna do it, right? No point in doing something and not going all the way. Except that in my case ‘going all the way’ needs to be taken quit literally. It means spending 10 hours in the car with two toddlers and doing all the driving by myself. And not drinking. That’s just the drive I’m talking about.
I’ve been procrastinating on booking this trip ever since the day I first thought of going on a vacation. I listed all sorts of places, researched more than I ever did for my thesis (just a little while ago) and kept raising the bar my savings account needed to have in order to book the bloody thing.
Tonight, I said: fuck it! I don’t wanna go to this huge camping thing with the amazing swimming pools, just because I’m scared I won’t be able to cope if I’m all alone. Or because I’m scared I won’t be able to entertain them enough. I like small campings, a few nice people, breathing space, nature. I like spending time with my kids here, why wouldn’t I like it anywhere else? I don’t wanna drive 10 hours and start my vacation all exhausted just to be sure I can go back home tanned. I want to go somewhere, get settled, have a really good beer, juice for the kids and play a board game.
So, I booked a birdhouse. A real birdhouse, just a half day drive away, it has trees and sheep and good food and space to ride bikes. It’s so much cheaper then any of the mass fancy swimming pool stuff I saw online. So I took the breakfast in bed arrangement. Just like that. I’ll be off somewhere in the summer, taking the easy road and I’m damn proud of it.
I will most certainly not be available by mail. Do you really need the contact details of my back up? This is bloody digital marketing, whatever your problem is, it is not an emergency , it is – by definition – a first world problem. Give my lovely back up a break and call me next week. Safe to say, I’ll be well rested to help you with your “emergency”.
The three of us
PS: Don’t even think I made up the birdhouse. Here it is.