By and large the worse part of any vacation is travelling. The drive down there isn't too bad, it just takes for ever. You are anxious to be there, to see the ocean, or the museum, or the park, or the whatever it is you are going to see. And travelling with parents and children, well it means that you are going to stretch your 9 hour trip into 13 hours. There is logistically no way for everyone to synchronize their poop chute - that's all there is to it. Stop for gasoline, everyone goes potty, except maybe two people. In 20 minutes, one of them will have to stop. Everyone goes again. except one person. And another 30 minutes that last person will have to stop. So in one hours time, you've traveled 30 miles and stopped 4 times. If you're lucky, you might get another 2 to 3 hours in before the process begins again, but usually not. Usually about one hour after the last stop, someone will need to stop again.
It's really no different on the way home, but in the long run the effect is much more devestating. Travelling down to florida, there's always the hope and anticipation of what is to come. Coming you, you know what's there, you just want to get into your comfortable clothes, and into bed and sleep for a while -- but you know you can't do that, because you're going to have to unpack (thank god the condo had a washing machine and all your clothes are already clean). But by the time you get home, the drive has washed away all of the joy of the vacation. You arrive back in town and it seems as if you've never been gone. There was no vacation, there was no laughter and sun and sand and surf. There was only this long drawn out time spent in the car, scouring away the vacation entirely. That's why you need to take pictures while you're there, because by the time you return, you will have forgotten everything.
Of course, I'm doing it all again in October. This time I'm going to Branson with Grandma Walker, my dad, and Elijah and Isaiah. I'm thinking Benadryl all around!
