Monday, October 20, 2014

What it's like to travel with my family

Traveling with my family is so organized it’s actually sickening.

I woke up at 4:45 a.m., AM, THAT STANDS FOR SOMETHING THAT I DON’T KNOW, BUT WHAT IT MEANS IS IT WAS IN THE MORNING, to hop into the shower and be out of the door by 5:15 a.m. because that’s what I was told the night before.

At 5:03 a.m., my mother knocks on my door to tell me it’s time to go.

Oh, ok.

You’re probably wondering why on God’s green earth would anyone book a flight that early in the morning. Because we’re the Skinners and we have never, in the history of my existence, boarded a plane after 7 a.m. This is a fact. Even if we were flying to Lubbock, a 45-minute flight, we would leave at the crack of dawn to ensure we got there in plenty of time to get the most out of the day.
The morning sucks for obvious reasons, like I’m tired, and I’m hungry, but is food even available this early, and oh, yeah, I gag uncontrollably. It’s really cute. I googled why and the google told me something about allergies or sinuses or something like that, and I don’t think that’s it. I think my body is just saying no.


Gag count this morning: 5

We were out the door, in the car, a couple of blocks down, when I realized I forgot my makeup, which would have been totally fine if ya know I wasn’t a female headed to the land of surfers with a face better suited for makeup. So I broke that news about four minutes into the ride to the airport. We turned around and honest to god, you would have thought I told my parents I was lesbian.

My dad ran stop signs. My mother ran into the house with me so I wouldn’t spend that extra 2.4 seconds turning off the alarm.

“Run!” she said.

I got the makeup, (I left my primer, which is kind of a key part of my makeup routine, so honestly, will anyone ever fall in love with me?) and rushed out the door to head to the DFW airport.
We went through security, however my mother was in the preapproved line because there’s nothing the Skinners love more than showing other airport-goers how it’s done, and we were done in fewer than (less than?) three minutes because skills.

Now before this trip, I had to dig up my passport from a black hole, aka my bedroom, and give it to my mother.

Yes, my passport.

MY PASSPORT.

No, we aren’t going to Europe. We’re going to Hawaii and unless you’re 97 years old like my grandmother, you know Hawaii is a part of the United States and a passport is not needed.
Along with passports, each family member was given cash “just in case.” You know, just in case I accidentally get into a van with a strange man promising me candy, or Taylor Swift tickets, and the only way he lets me go is if I hand over this cash, or just in case I get lost on an island that doesn’t accept debit cards, or just in case they lose me at the pool and the only thing to do is drink a margarita.

But joke’s on them because I already spent all my cash on two bagels from LAX. #Hollywood.
We boarded the plane (we were in Group 1 because my father checked us in 24 hours ahead of time like the maniac he is) and we found our seats. (I got aisle seat because I once had a panic attack on a plane, so now I get aisle, hehe.)

On the plane ride, we discussed what we were going to do for the entire duration of the vacation because there is not an hour that goes by on a Skinner vacation that isn’t planned to the last second. Where are we going to eat? How long are we going to be at the beach? Are we going to K-Mart or Safeway when we arrive? How many Poptarts do we need to buy if we each have three-fourths of one each day for the next five days?


My mother pulled out her folder full of documents and receipts and birth certificates and our shot records and our wills. It’s labeled “Hawaii 2014.”

“If we arrive at the hotel by 1:30 p.m. Hawaii standard time, that’s 6:30 p.m. Texas time, which means the tide will be high, so we can go ahead and skip the beach and head straight to Hula Grill, where we have reservations, because it will feel like dinnertime by then and then before you know it, bedtime! Do you think the hotel will have Wheel of Fortune on?”

what.


Wish me luck.

2 comments:

  1. Replies
    1. it's so real it hurts. you would fit in perfectly because you like to plan your vacas.

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