Every year, for the past 24 years, we go to the little town of Mineral at the foot of Mt. Lassen and experience a fun family vacation. The 30 or so group of Italian cousins and our mutt-mates spend 5 days in cabins and tents, enjoying big, interesting, gourmet meals, loads of red wine, art projects, swimming, and hiking, ending with a poetry contest on the last night.
Oh, and this time there were 11 dogs – and one tortoise. Our tortoise, Mr. T, is eating so much these days we could not expect a neighbor to keep up with his insatiable needs.
There are 7 quirky kids ages 2 to 10, and 2 teenage girls. When I say quirky, I mean it. Here’s one of our conversations in the car going to the next town for a grocery run:
Marilyn: “Let’s pretend we’re animals.”
Ryan (9): “I’m a tiger.”
Justin (10): “I’m a shrimp.”
Kiki (5): “I’m Bob’s girlfriend”
Marilyn: “Let me get this straight – the animals in our back seat are a tiger, a shrimp and Bob’s Girlfriend, correct?”
All: “Yep!”
Ryan and Justin are both on the autism spectrum. They are adorable, and more than most adults can handle. Their dad passed away this last December and their mom couldn’t make it this year. “The village” Hillary Clinton spoke of consists of the rest of our family. We all love them dearly. And they are more than most adults can handle. Worth repeating.
My husband, Richard, and I agreed to bring the boys back to their working mom in the same town as we live in. After lots of hugs and laughter within all our good-byes, we were the last to leave. We wanted to get out of there by 11:00AM. It’s a 4-hour drive. This was yesterday:
It took Richard and Cousin Denny quite a while to load Richard’s van. It was the beginning of a long day of testing my capacity for patience. Meanwhile, we almost lost Mr. T! Cousin Donna was giving me some information when Denny spotted him almost all the way under the deck. Can you imagine? We would have been looking all over for him.
“Mr. T!”
“Mister Teeeeeee!”
I can’t bear the thought that eventually we would have had to leave without him. Would Donna and Denny ever discover that he was under their cabin?
Yes, you can fall in love with a tortoise. We’ve had him since he was in an egg – 20 years.
We finally left around 1:00PM. As we wound down the mountain, I was happy to be on my way home, eager to get really clean again. It’s been in the 90s every day and I was so cooked. I wanted to close my eyes and think of all the fun things I had just experienced. I had my littlest and oldest Chihuahua, Evander, on my lap (who, by the way, thankfully, fully recovered from shaken-doggie-syndrome caused when Kiki made him dance like a rag doll), the other three dogs were strewn in between Justin and Ryan, and Mr. T was in the way back struggling to get out of his container. It didn’t take long before I began to see signs that perhaps we may not make it back home effortlessly.
“Mr. T is climbing out of his container, Marilyn!”
“It’s okay. There’s nowhere he can go and he can’t get hurt.”
“Mr. T is climbing out of his container, Marilyn!”
“It’s okay.”
“Marilyn, Mr. T is climbing out of his container.”
“Yes, I know. It’s o-KAY.”
“Mr. T is climbing out of his container, Marilyn!”
We stopped in Red Bluff to get the kids something to hold them over, since we had promised them an In and Out burger at Ryan’s request. The nearest In and Out on our route home is quite a ways. The wind was blowing, making Richard drive severely under the speed limit, the sun was at an angle that made Evander pant, and the questions coming from our backseat were nonstop.
“How long before we can go to In and Out?”
“It’s a long way.”
“How many miles till we get to In and Out?”
“About 150”
“When will we be at In and Out?”
“In about 2 hours”
“When will we be at In and Out?”
“In about 1 hour and 45 minutes.”
“When will we be at In and Out?”
“In about an hour and a half.”
I gave Ryan my phone. He is obsessed with playing games on all our phones, but needs to be limited. He also steals people’s phones. I just needed him to be distracted for a while.
Richard is going 50 in a 70 zone.
I am taking long, deep breaths. “Think of something else,” I tell myself.
Justin: “Why are all the cars going faster than us?”
Breathe, Marilyn.
My phone battery is in the red, and now Ryan has nothing else to do. I am mentally “willing” Richard to drive faster. I don’t care if the Expedition tips over. I rather take that chance. Step on it. Please, God, get me out of here.
I am trying to play the drawing game, but all Ryan wants to draw are violent things about death.
Justin wants to play “Would You Rather”.
Justin: “Would you rather have a needle poke you in the eye or have your head split open?”
Ryan: “Would you rather have your head cut off or have your tongue cut out?”
My turn: “Would you rather be in a chorus line in a popular Broadway musical or be a street dancer in LA?
Boys: “I don’t even know what those are.”
Apparently, still no gays in our family yet. How is that possible? What are the statistics?
We finally get to In and Out’s drive-thru, I feel like I may be having a little tiny stroke. They’re called TIAs. We can’t get out of the car because the dogs will go flying everywhere. Turns out, the boys are really only interested in the stupid hats and stickers, forgodsakes. We don’t order any drinks because 1. Sugar in these two would be catastrophic to my mental health, and 2. Richard has already placed 4 water bottles in the pockets in front of them. After eating for a while, they complain that they are thirsty. We tell them to drink the water. They say there is no water. I feel bad for not at least ordering them water. Richard wonders aloud, “I swear I put some water in the back for them.” Turns out Ryan had been throwing the water bottles at Mr. T in the way back.
Another 40 minutes left to go.
I will spare the gory details of that last leg home. It was pretty ugly.
One real thrill was seeing the fog engulfing the Golden Gate Bridge. If I could, I would kiss fog. I would marry fog.
Richard, bless his little heart, suggested he drop me off with the dogs first, because we didn’t exactly know how we would control all 4 them when unloading the boys’ stuff.
I was greeted by our two new kittens; I fed them and the dogs, then took a long, lovely shower.
Ah-h-h-h.
Then I poured myself a huge glass of wine.
Ah-h-h-h.
Poor haggard Richard walks in the door carrying Mr. T.
All is back in place.
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