"Plan ahead for emergencies on family vacation" --- What Kind Of Emergency???
I read this article thinking it would be all about having a first aid kit, medical info., etc. But instead I got a good laugh!
Plan ahead for emergencies on family vacation
Daddy Chronicles BY PRENTISS GRAY GANNETT NEWS SERVICE
This is the first time I have tried to prep the whole family for a long vacation since my wife died.
Two weeks doesn't seem like a long time, if you're reporting for duty with the Marines, or have to come up with money for taxes. But if you measure it in socks for four people, it's darn near forever.
We are going to the wilds of Wyoming for two weeks of airplanes, cars, horses and whining. It will be fun. It better be fun; I am breaking the bank just getting ready for it.
This week, I am taking each of my sons to lunch and then shopping. The lunch gives me a chance to talk to each one alone and explain what will happen on the trip; setting expectations to avoid "surprises."
"Wyoming? What are we going to do there?"
"We're going to ride horses! And wear cowboy hats!"
"Are we bringing the Xbox?"
"Sorry, no place to plug it in on a horse."
Essential gear: The shopping collects together three kinds of vastly necessary items; socks, underwear and emergency supplies. The socks come from my realization that it could take 5 weeks just to match 28 pairs of socks. Four guys times 7 days. After that, we either have to find a Laundromat or a really big sink. Right now, we just put them all in a big basket. If you want socks, start digging! So, as a special going away treat, I am buying everyone socks. What a Dad!
Because we are going with my parents, a special added attraction will be new underwear. Somehow, the thought of my mother spotting my sons in old ratty underwear outweighs the need for flight insurance.
Which brings us to the third kind of supplies: emergency kits.
The kind of emergency I am guarding against is deadly to any long family trip: boredom. Just the thought of my sons breaking out in a shouting match on the airplane or in the car in front of my parents gives me night terrors. Poor old things, they don't know anything about children. They could be permanently scarred, or worse, think their favorite son is raising a bunch of hooligans.
My mother used to give me an emergency kit at the beginning of each trip in the hope it would keep me too busy to set the car or hotel room on fire. My wife used to do the same thing for our children, except that she wrapped each item within the kit, like a present. It works.
Backseat fun: My mom's kits were filled with comic books, little models and other small wonders. I distinctly remember the smell of model glue in the backseat of the car mixing with cigarette smoke from the front. Probably not a medically sound solution, but psychologically, those kits kept sanity close at hand.
I don't intend to wrap each item; I'm a crummy wrapper anyway. But I do want to create the same effect, the peace of busy hands and closed mouths. Consequently, after socks and underwear comes emergency kit contents selection. I get suggestions from each boy about what the others would like. This preserves some of the surprise.
Special powers : A good emergency kit might not be enough to stop a really powerful meltdown, so I set expectations carefully at the lunch before the shopping. I warn each one that if they embarrass me in front of my parents, I have a special horror planned for them.
For my oldest, I am bringing a hammer, which I will use with an excess of joy on his beloved iPod, should he transgress. For my middle son, who is a lot bigger than any of us, I promise to cancel his "World of Warcraft" Internet subscription. He turns a little pale whenever I mention it.
Last is my youngest, sweetest son, all of 10 years old, who has just entered the age of modesty. Any emotional explosions will force me to reveal the naked pictures I have of him at a younger, more open stage. I will be only too happy to share them with my parents, the checkers at the supermarket, passing flight attendants or even his classmates at school.
posted by Christine Pusateri @ 9:14 AM
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