The Twisted Rantings of the Dantelope

There are wonderful morning sounds that gently ease me from a deep sleep and propose to me a melodious tune of optimism and delight for the coming day.

These are not one of them:

TSO: *slap slap* you're snoring, stop!

So begins Day 2 of the Dantelope Family Vacation... here's a quick rundown of the events so far at the end of Day 3:

First Born vs. 2.5cm-long Man-o-war Jellyfish. Winner: Jellyfish.
Little, blue, different. And painful. FB took the brunt of a massively coordinated attack by the intelligent species and was brutally bitten on his shin. A coast guard in Guatemala heard his screams and alerted authorities. SEALs were deployed to apply Jellyfish ointment to the wounded area. MC Grand was unable to help asking if there were peanut butter fish to go with it. Feel my pain.

Masculinity vs. Grandparents. Winner: Grandparents.
I have now given up the keys to the rental minivan because I can no longer deal with the incessant criticism and snide directional comments of (a) MC Grand, sitting next to me (are you going to turn on your signal? oy, look out! oy, you're in the wrong lane! All this before I've even left the parking lot), (b) TSO from two freakin' rows back, and from (c) The Gila, who provides directions to a destination (let's say, "the beach"), as follows:

Here's a restaurant that MC Grand and I ate at a few months back on the left, see, right past the wall over there, no, look, with the lights, yeah, right there. Anyway, they had the fish, and, you're going to want to be in the left lane, here. No, the other left lane. I played golf at this place over here on your right. These drivers, oy, I tell you, they're meshugina. Look at this guy, he's crazy. Turn left.... the fish was wonderful, best ever. Did you just miss the turn?

When a man gives up the keys to the vehicle, you know he's been beaten down pretty badly. I spend my time brooding in the very back of the minivan now, weaving seaweed I've gathered from the beach into a makeshift noose. I plan to off myself sometime tomorrow afternoon.

Princess Diva vs. Any Obstacle, real or imagined. Winner: obstacle. My daughter is like that can of Diet Coke you dropped on the way in from the grocery store and then forgot you dropped and then decided to open up. Whether the obstacle is.. oh... sand in her shoe... or not getting her shoe on in the first 4.5ms... or the wind blowing in a direction she didn't command. Her explosions are not light, either. Once scream from her siren box can blow out every eardrum in a 10 mile square radius. We've already been warned twice by the Navy that she's interfering with their whale-killing sonic weapons testing.

I should also probably alert you, if I haven't already, that my daughter is a professional klutz. Here is a list - no joke - of the injuries sustained just today:

• Table corner to just under the right eye
• Nine running falls on concrete or other hard surfaces
• Hand caught in heavy closing hotel door
• Foot caught in handbag
  

Princess Diva's bladder vs. Daddy. Winner: bladder. While the Gila fished the Atlantic Ocean with First Born off a pier, I tried some cuddly bonding with my daughter. Everything was great until she jumped off to chase a pelican.

Me: Uh... why are my shorts all wet?
TSO: Looks like she leaked.
Me: Uh... why is my shirt all wet?
TSO: She really, really leaked.

I had to walk a quarter mile back to the car with people looking at me as if I'd just pissed myself silly (which I was tempted to do because, hey, damage already done why not feel relieved while I'm at it). Gotta love it.

---- Dantelope @ vacation+kids != vacation

Labels: family, florida, vacation