Family trip yields many lessons

Last Wednesday, the family and I packed our bags, got into our purple 1998 Grand Caravan with a transmission ready to spontaneously explode at any given moment and headed out to the Carolinas for a week of relaxation and enjoyment.

Now that we have the setting established, let me explain who went along.

There was myself, my step-dad Joe, step-sister Rachel, my mom, and my 2-year old nephew Connor. Now, if you've never been on a vacation with a small child, let me just explain to you that they are evil creatures who possess the ability to disappear at any moment, throw tantrums at the most inappropriate times, and become irritably constipated for the duration of the trip.

"Connor," my mom would say at a restaurant, "Do you want a brownie? Look at the brownie, Connor. Do you want the brownie? Look at the brownie, Connor. Do you want the brownie?"

This would go on for several minutes while the rest of us watched with amazement as the child would maneuver his head in every possible motion to avoid the food being handed to him. Occasionally, I would look up at the people sitting next to us and, of course, they would be giving one another that can't-they-shut-that-baby-up look.

I, myself, have given this look on many occasions before Connor was born. And now I realize that you really can't shut the baby up.

The driving time had to be the worst though. Rachel and I were smart enough to bring our CD players along. So, as I was listening to Chingy explain to me that this girl he knows is as hot as a boiling pot, my Mom and Joe were snapping back and forth at each other about their location and telling us that we should be looking at the scenery instead of listening to our CD players. I had to explain to my mom that having headphones on did not blind me in any way and that I could see the nicely mowed median just fine.

A typical conversation between the two of them consisted of this:

Mom: "Oh, wow -- look at the bright lights of Atlanta, guys."

Joe: "This isn't Atlanta. We're way north of Atlanta."

Mom: "No we're not. This is Atlanta. Wow, look at those big buildings over there."

Joe: "Linda, this isn't Atlanta. We're at least half an hour north of it."

Mom: "Oh, so that's why all these gigantic buildings are here and that billboard says 'Atlanta?'"

Joe: "Well, I'm pretty sure we're north of Atlanta. I'm not sure what all that means."

Mom: "Jesus, Joe!"

We really did end up having a good time but it was also nice to come back to the regular homestead. Our journey had finally come to a peaceful end.

And Joe was right. We were north of it.

Sam DeReign is a graduate of Oran High School. Contact him at sdereign@semissourian.com.