Family Trip

Going to Uncle Oylen’s for Christmas, I told everyone they could bring one thing. With a small car, our room was limited. Knowing someone would forget something, I asked if everyone had what they needed.

“I’ll be spending some time in WDC.” My wife said, holding up her tablet.

“Great idea”

My daughter, Nevis, said, “I’m bringing a hat.” She held up the battered fedora from her Halloween costume.

“What in tarnation for?”

“Uncle Oylen always wants me to sing cuz I’m in choir. The hat’s for everyone to drop money in.”

“Okay. Uhm, wear it and get something to do.”

“Dad, I have my phone.” At fifteen, what else is there?

“Dilworth, what are you bringing?”

“This.” He held up a plate.

Confused, I asked, “Why do you need a plate?”

“I want a clean plate, that’s why! Uncle Oylen never washes his dishes good and they got gunk on em; gross!”

“I can’t argue that.” There's no arguing with a Tween, I said to myself. “I’ll bring paper plates. Grab something else.”

“My Kindle?” I nodded.

My four-year-old had a pillow. “What’s with the pillow, Nimrod?”

“I have to sit in the highchair cuz Uncle thinks I’m a baby. Last year I got a sliver in my butt.” His defiant look told me not to argue with him, either.

“Tell you what, you can sit with us; I’ll grab a cushion, just in case. Bring your Evercade so you have something to do.”

“Next year, I’m packing for everyone,” I muttered to myself as I grabbed paper plates, plastic dinnerware, and a cushion from a chair. With my hands full, I wrestled the door shut behind me, completely forgetting our suitcase and the bag of gifts sitting next to the door…

Word count = 293