I've written about my vacation escapades with my kids, and about the fact that every vacation it seemed like some new "event" occurred. Whether it was burning cars, flooded tents, unexpected illnesses, or burned camping food, we always had something happen.
Interestingly enough, those are now our best memories. One summer we headed to the east coast with New York City as our final destination. We planned and dreamed of going to New York, Philly, DC, and exploring parts of Virginia. We rented a pull behind camper that was surprisingly reasonable for a camper that slept 6 (with two dogs).
I should have known we were off to a bad start when we picked up the camper. Looking at the outside I exclaimed, "Six? Where?" In all my life, I'd never seen a camper so small. Well, after a little creative thinking (stacking) and re-arranging, we figured out where everyone would sleep. I told the kids, "It'll be FUN, you'll see."
Off we went from the mid-west toward the east coast.
When we traveled I had a system set up for making sure we had enough money to survive while we still ate food that had nutritional value. Breakfast usually consisted of cereal, fruit, and milk. Lunch was peanut butter and jelly sandwiches (my personal fav), chips, cookies, and milk. We ate dinner out, which sometimes was Mickey D's, but even that wasn't cheap as much as the boys ate. We got used to the cramped quarters, stale bread, lack of variety, and barking dogs and for the most part everything was going fine.
Then my oldest son got sick...really sick. He was never sick (ever) and so it hit him like a train. He had a fever of 104 and was weezy, couldn't breathe, and was miserable. Because he had never really been sick (and he was around 11 years old), he turned out to be a bit of a problem. He refused to eat or drink anything and he wouldn't talk to anyone. He barely let me take his temperature. By the time we got to Gettysburg, PA and found a drugstore, he was looking really bad. The druggist called doc back home and we started him on antibiotics and various other medicines.
He still wouldn't eat.
So, in order to get him to eat I started asking, "will you eat soup or drink soda?"
"Will you eat crackers?"
"Will you drink juice?"
Nothing worked. I couldn't get him to eat or drink anything. Finally, I asked, "will you drink a shake?" He said, "yes" and we headed to Mickey's to get him a vanilla shake.
Well, naturally everyone in the car wanted a shake. I explained that we had food for everyone but not enough money for all of them to have shakes. Suddenly, their mild concern for their sibling turned into massive contempt. Someone shouted, "he's fakin' you know!"
I took up for my sick son, but by that time it was too late. The crowd was out of control and about every five minutes someone would mumble, "he's fakin'".
For the rest of the trip my oldest son had a regular diet of vanilla shakes. That was all he had, but I was glad we were getting something in his stomach!
Slowly my son did recover. We saw a lot of sights, the Capitol, the Liberty Bell, the Statue of Liberty, President's homes in Virginia, and the beach, but through it all, the other kids continued to mumble, "he's fakin'".
It got so bad that I was rolling my eyes...
Well, I wish I could say that my kids learned a great lesson in caring for their brother while he was ill. It would be nice if I could share a great story about how they prayed for their brother on that vacation. I know I prayed a lot because I was scared about how ill he really was and I suggested several times that they pray. All I heard was "H-U-M". In the end all I can say is that we survived. I really felt like they thought it was a horrible trip because they didn't get to have a regular diet of vanilla shakes.
So, here's the funny thing. Through the years, one thing has remained...the memory of those vanilla shakes. Now when we talk about "fakin'" everyone KNOWS what that refers to, and how it came about. "He's fakin'" became the tie that binds us together (in God) and makes us family. "He's fakin'" became our motto and forever part of our memory. They barely remember seeing the Statue of Liberty, but they sure remember watchin' their brother drink yet another vanilla shake. Today, they all still mumble, "he WAS fakin'" and we laugh outloud.
"He's fakin'" BECAME such a part of who we are and that IS a gift!
Interestingly enough, those are now our best memories. One summer we headed to the east coast with New York City as our final destination. We planned and dreamed of going to New York, Philly, DC, and exploring parts of Virginia. We rented a pull behind camper that was surprisingly reasonable for a camper that slept 6 (with two dogs).
I should have known we were off to a bad start when we picked up the camper. Looking at the outside I exclaimed, "Six? Where?" In all my life, I'd never seen a camper so small. Well, after a little creative thinking (stacking) and re-arranging, we figured out where everyone would sleep. I told the kids, "It'll be FUN, you'll see."
Off we went from the mid-west toward the east coast.
When we traveled I had a system set up for making sure we had enough money to survive while we still ate food that had nutritional value. Breakfast usually consisted of cereal, fruit, and milk. Lunch was peanut butter and jelly sandwiches (my personal fav), chips, cookies, and milk. We ate dinner out, which sometimes was Mickey D's, but even that wasn't cheap as much as the boys ate. We got used to the cramped quarters, stale bread, lack of variety, and barking dogs and for the most part everything was going fine.
Then my oldest son got sick...really sick. He was never sick (ever) and so it hit him like a train. He had a fever of 104 and was weezy, couldn't breathe, and was miserable. Because he had never really been sick (and he was around 11 years old), he turned out to be a bit of a problem. He refused to eat or drink anything and he wouldn't talk to anyone. He barely let me take his temperature. By the time we got to Gettysburg, PA and found a drugstore, he was looking really bad. The druggist called doc back home and we started him on antibiotics and various other medicines.
He still wouldn't eat.
So, in order to get him to eat I started asking, "will you eat soup or drink soda?"
"Will you eat crackers?"
"Will you drink juice?"
Nothing worked. I couldn't get him to eat or drink anything. Finally, I asked, "will you drink a shake?" He said, "yes" and we headed to Mickey's to get him a vanilla shake.
Well, naturally everyone in the car wanted a shake. I explained that we had food for everyone but not enough money for all of them to have shakes. Suddenly, their mild concern for their sibling turned into massive contempt. Someone shouted, "he's fakin' you know!"
I took up for my sick son, but by that time it was too late. The crowd was out of control and about every five minutes someone would mumble, "he's fakin'".
For the rest of the trip my oldest son had a regular diet of vanilla shakes. That was all he had, but I was glad we were getting something in his stomach!
Slowly my son did recover. We saw a lot of sights, the Capitol, the Liberty Bell, the Statue of Liberty, President's homes in Virginia, and the beach, but through it all, the other kids continued to mumble, "he's fakin'".
It got so bad that I was rolling my eyes...
Well, I wish I could say that my kids learned a great lesson in caring for their brother while he was ill. It would be nice if I could share a great story about how they prayed for their brother on that vacation. I know I prayed a lot because I was scared about how ill he really was and I suggested several times that they pray. All I heard was "H-U-M". In the end all I can say is that we survived. I really felt like they thought it was a horrible trip because they didn't get to have a regular diet of vanilla shakes.
So, here's the funny thing. Through the years, one thing has remained...the memory of those vanilla shakes. Now when we talk about "fakin'" everyone KNOWS what that refers to, and how it came about. "He's fakin'" became the tie that binds us together (in God) and makes us family. "He's fakin'" became our motto and forever part of our memory. They barely remember seeing the Statue of Liberty, but they sure remember watchin' their brother drink yet another vanilla shake. Today, they all still mumble, "he WAS fakin'" and we laugh outloud.
"He's fakin'" BECAME such a part of who we are and that IS a gift!
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