We arrive in Mexico and toddler son’s crying and pulling on his ears during landing make us realize he has an ear infection. Undaunted, husband takes kids to the beach. Suddenly I hear wild screams. I run down. Husband slipped down a set of stairs while holding our son. He braced himself with his elbows and now has two wildly bleeding wounds on each arm. Next day we head to a doctor for my son. Doctor looks at husband’s elbows, frowns, and gives him more bandages and antiseptic. Once the antibiotics kick in, son is no longer Screaming Child from Hell but his regular sweet self. And that’s when daughter gets the flu, or something. And infects the rest of us, too. We spend the vacation mostly on the couch, except for one time when I take my recovered daughter to the beach, and she gets stung by a jelly fish. Once safely back home, husband takes son for a follow up ear infection exam. “Those should have been stitched up,” he comments looking at husband’s elbows.
We call it the Vacation from Hell.