My father drove our blue Buick station wagon across South Dakota in the dead of night. He was on a mission it seemed. He wanted to get to his favorite campground and relax. Little did he know - he'd not get a single moment of true relaxation at all.
You might be asking yourself why my father drove across the state at night. I'd like to know that, too. I have suspicions, though. They involve the game of Whee and possibly turning the car around. But most likely Dad drove in the early morning hours before dawn so that he could get the most vacation possible.
Boy, that was his first mistake.
Dad had a surprise for us this vacation. He was going to quit smoking. He announced his strategy early the first day - just as we set up camp. "Every time I feel the need to smoke, I'll simply brush my teeth!" he announced.
Then the thunder thundered, right on cue.
It started raining that first day. It rained that night. It rained the next day. It kept raining that night. It was a rough start to our vacation. It was a tough test for Dad. Close quarters with no escape.
It didn't get really bad until we were more than half way through the week. It was still raining. Maybe it was the smell of the wet canvas. Maybe it was the daily morning bucket of number one that nobody wanted to walk up to the campground's bathrooms to empty. Maybe it was the sound of the endless rain on the tin-can roof. (Maddening, really.) Whatever it was, it set into motion endless treks up the hill for my dad.
This is how it would go. Somebody (probably my sister or my brother) would do something annoying. Somebody else (probably my brother or my sister) would tattle. Then my mother would yell at us to knock it off. And then we'd hear the door clack shut. (Isn't that the sound of a tent camper door? They don't slam. They don't seem capable. They clack. That's why tent campers always seem so damn happy on tv.)
My dad went up to the bathrooms, toothbrush and paste in hand, more times than we could count. Even when we did nothing to annoy anyone - "Clack!" went the door and off he went.
It'd be nice if I could tell you that the sun eventually came out, or that Dad had kicked his smoking habit for good thanks to this trip, or that I won at cards at some time during the vacation. But nothing nice like that happened.
We survived it, though. As a family - we made it through that hellish vacation. We took those tense times and turned them into terrific tales we tell each time we get to reminiscing. And you know - they're happy memories now. We laugh a lot!
Oh - and Dad's teeth were forever after incredibly white!
*Dad did quit smoking some time later. It wasn't the toothbrush technique that did it for him, but he kicked the habit all the same.
I love this!! This makes my own terrible family vacations seen more normal!
Loving the way you write!
This was my favorite yet. Thanks for the memories! :)