(Continuation of Don’t Fuck With Mom’s Dessert )
“You people don’t know ANYTHING about ice cream. You gotta get the stuff people actually LIKE. You can’t be cheap about ice cream.”
— Mom, when my brother-in-law came back from the store with Turkey Hill brand.
I tried to warn you, man. 
The entire family is here in the Outer Banks (OBX) for our annual 2-week vacation, but Jeremy doesn’t arrive until Thursday…
Staring at your Charity Miles app for almost the entire duration of your 9 mile OBX run in what can only be described as dog-death humidity (I swear I passed a whimpering, defeated camel), does NOT make the time go by faster.
It DOES, however, cause you to trip over a toddler on his tricycle.
Sorry, kid.
But seriously. Stop crying.
You’re fine.
That moment when you’re on vacation and there’s a tornado.
Before: 
During:
After:
It had been a while since I’d seen my therapist, so I had a lot to catch her up on. I told her about my upcoming family vacation in the Outer Banks, and that I was excited because I had invited Eric to come along. I also told her about my weekend in the North Fork babysitting my nephew, and how funny it was to see him next to slightly older babies who were crawling and walking, as he has yet to do anything but sit and occasionally roll over (one way only). I said it would be interesting to see if he was able to do anything new by the time we go to the Outer Banks mid-August. She smiled politely through all my babbling, and then chimed in….
Therapist: “Well that’ll be really nice to have him at the beach. He should be mobile by then.”
Me: (skeptical) “Eh…I doubt it. He’s pretty fat.”
Therapist: “Oh, um. Oh…I didn’t know…”
Me: “No, you know what I mean. Not in like a bad way. He’s just a total chunkster. I call him my little porkpie.”
Therapist: “Oh…that’s…oh.”
Me: “No, like, endearingly. He’s just a tub-a-lub. I just can’t imagine him walking any time soon. Like how is he supposed to get those lumpy doughboy thighs off the ground?”
Therapist: “Oh…but…is he able to do his physical therapy?”
It was at this point that I realized she was referring to Eric, who recently had ACL surgery. NOT my chubby 8-month-old nephew.
Me: “Oh my god…wait…you think I’m sitting here telling you Eric is a fat chunk who won’t walk any time soon?!”
Therapist: “Oh! You’re talking about the baby!”
Me: “Yes! Eric is not too fat to walk!”
Therapist: “Yeah you never mentioned him being fat…I thought maybe he gained some weight after surgery…”
Me: “I do not call Eric ‘my little porkpie!'”
Therapist (laughing): “Ok, good…”
It was at this point that I realized my therapist, who is responsible for my mental sanity, thinks I’m a terrible, twisted human being.
Eh. I’m ok with that.
Zack emailed the family a very simple, benign question related to our upcoming family vacation in the Outer Banks:
Mom’s response:
A simple yes or no would have sufficed. 
Woman next to us on the Tel Aviv beach (pointing to her chair): “Can you watch this for me while I leave for a bit?”
“This” = her 3 year old child.
Oh, ok. Sure.
#israelis
Barista: “The usual?”
Me: “No, I already had that this morning. Now I just want a frappacino. It’s a 2-coffee kind of day.”
Barista: “I hear ya. Monday!”
Me: “Yes! Ok, well, no. I’m on summer break. I’m told I’m not allowed to complain.”
Barista: “Oh please, teachers can complain all they want. Your job is HARD. And exhausting. You need the summer!”
Me: “Wow, thank you! I really appreciate you saying that. Most non-teachers don’t get that. Seriously. That made my day.”
Barista: “Absolutely! And stay tuned, Starbucks is doing a ‘Teacher Appreciation’ week when you guys start up again in September!”
And just when I was starting to like you, you mentioned September.
Jackhole.
Kid (complaining): “Why is my photo on the classroom door in black and white and everyone else’s is in color?”
Me: “Because you missed the entire first week of school when we took the photos, so we had to print yours on the classroom printer instead of CVS. Remember that? When you missed the whole first week, because mom thought it was more important for you to be on vacation than to be in school learning? And you came back and had no idea what to do, and we had to take the time to re-explain every single thing you missed?”
Kid (head down): “Yeah…”
As a child, I missed the entire first week of school every single year, K through 8th grade, to vacation with my family in the Outer Banks.
It was fucking awesome.
That moment when you invite yourself on someone’s family vacation, because what they’re doing sounds pretty fun. And hey, you’re free all summer!
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