Fake-cation

School vacation has come to an end, and exhausted parents are ready to get back to work. No one is cooking at this point -- it's amazing how with all the time at home, the last thing you want to do is to cook. Instead, we've been ordering pizza, Chinese food, going to the diner. When you've had as much fun as we've had (heavy irony here), you want to restrain yourself from overdoing it.

Are we the only family that has not gone to the Caribbean? It sure feels that way sometime. The train station is empty; the roads are quiet; and the local Starbucks is deserted. On Friday I took the kids to Barnes & Noble (whoo-hoo!) and was relieved to see one other parent I knew. At least we got to spend some time in New York, walking through Chinatown, going to the Met, and seeing a Broadway play (Mary Poppins -- great fun!). I count all that time as Dinner with Dad (and Mom) because, of course, we were eating (and touring) together -- we just weren't cooking (except for the bagels I toasted).

I remember, as a kid, my vacations with my own parents, which mostly consisted of getting in the car and driving as far as my father could stand before he was ready to kill us. Did we have fun? I don't remember. But it certainly brought us closer -- even though sometimes we might have appreciated a little distance. Every car trip was a little bit like Little Miss Sunshine (although without the heroin snorting grandfather). Still, loooking back at that time now, I wouldn't trade it for anything else -- except maybe a week in St. Kitts.