Country Roads

I never hate my inlaws more than when I am trudging through the crowds at LAX with too many carry ons and things like mittens and boots.

I’m pissed off from the time I start to pack Christmas presents in November, to when I get off the plane disheveled by two unexhaustable children and their frazzled father. You can pack all the goodies and tricks in the world, but nothing sucks the life out of you more than flying across the country with two small children.

I’m fairly certain you lose years off your life from these trips. Throw in an airline that may or may not want you to feed your child, and the happy fun time that is the first snow of the year and you’ve got yourself a toddler and pre-k meltdown madness par-tay. Whoot fucking whoot.

But then something happens. Something happens from the time you wearily say hello to family and drag your overloaded suitcases through a vaguely familiar house to when you wake up the next morning to children eager to play with their only cousins, in from another country.

Something happens when your son sprints to a barn, something only seen to him before in books or zoos, because he knows there is something so special inside, he’s been waiting for nearly half his life to catch a glimpse. His grandfather has told him time and time again he had an honest to goodness real tractor, but the tiny boy just refused to believe it until he saw it for himself.

Something happens when you watch your daughter pull a gooey marshmallow off a stick and then giggle with delight as the ooze runs down her chin.

Something happens when only cousins talk about their favorite princess vs. their favorite car. Did you know Belle was faster than Lightening McQueen?

Something happens when your daughter runs and screams and chases her older relatives, only to be stopped dead in her tracks by a row of trees and a snowy sunset.

That’s when you realize it was worth it. Despite your bitching and moaning and suckers stuck in your hair and the chasing down of matchbox cars and crayons through 4 airplane aisles…it was worth it.

So as I ready my body and my mind to make the trip back from this other world to Los Angeles, I’m wondering how long it will take me to forget that it was worth it and begin my bitching.