The Closet Travel Guru Strikes Again!

I left the atlas on the kitchen table, a sure sign that something big was about to happen. One by one, throughout the day, various members of the family circled it, eyeing it warily, but nobody was brave enough to admit aloud what was about to happen (sort of like that old kids’ tale about murmuring the words “bloody Mary” three times in a dark room). But they definitely knew something was afoot. They knew because Mom almost never takes the atlas lightly.

They know me well – self-proclaimed Closet Travel Guru. I think I can get us anywhere on earth as long as I have $10 gas money, my Wingspan CD, and a cooler full of diet cream soda. I spend hours perusing expedia.com, memorizing prices to such exotic places as the Best Western in Springfield, Missouri, so I know when I can catch a once-in-a-lifetime deal.

And my vigilance pays. I’ve got it down to such a science that when we take a week-long trip to Walt Disney World, we actually come back with more money in our pockets than we had when we left.

But not all vacations are Disney World. The family can spot one of those vacations a mile away – because I leave the atlas out for a whole day before breaking the news. Sort of like firing a warning shot over their heads so they have time to strap on their helmets.

I waited until dinner time to unravel the Mystery of the Exposed Atlas. I fed them mini doughnuts and bags of Corn Nuts to get them in the right frame of mind. I made sure Paul and Linda were softly crooning in the background to help remind them how much they love road trips. I wore my sunglasses and road trip backpack to the dinner table and offered each of them a Dramamine tablet as an appetizer.

They sat, suspiciously chewing on their Slim Jims, waiting for me to drop the bomb.

“We’re going to Dayton!” I cried cheerfully. “Who wants some Skittles for dessert?”

They chewed, their expressions not changing.

Teen Goddess was the first to break the silence. “Why would anyone go to Dayton?”

I flushed with excitement. “I won a big writing contest, and they’re letting me come to a conference there. You and the boys and Daddy will get to spend some alone time sight-seeing. Won’t that be fun?”

Hubby choked on a Corn Nut. Coincidence.

“No way,” she said. “I am so not going to spend three days in a hotel room with the Testosterone Triplets.”

“What’s testosterone?” chirped The Destroyer. I shot Teen Goddess a look.

“It will be fun. Besides, you don’t have to stay in the hotel room.”

She rolled her eyes. “What’s in Dayton anyway?”

“Dave Barry will be there.”

“Who’s Dave Barry?” chirped The Destroyer.

“Mommy’s hero,” I said, tossing my well-worn copy of Boogers Are My Beat on the kitchen table.

“Hey, I know him!” cried Speed Demon. “Isn’t he the guy who does the voice for Elmer Fudd?”

“No, he’s the guy who invented Microsoft, Dufus,” Teen Goddess said, dipping into her bag of M&M’s. “Duh. You’re so dense.”

“I think there’s an Air Force museum there,” I said, but could quickly see I was losing my audience as Teen Goddess and Speed Demon engaged each other in a heated battle of “I know you are but what am I?”

I looked to Hubby for help.

“How long does it take to drive to Dayton?” he said in a very small voice.

“Only about ten hours.”

“Ten! That’s so cool! I could watch a movie like five times on my portable DVD player,” said one of the kids. I was afraid to look to see who said it, instead wondering which movie would make me take a fingernail file to my eardrums the quickest: Spongebob Squarepants, Teletubbies, or Austin Powers.

Hubby blanched. “That’s almost four hundred,” he said.

“Four hundred what?”

“I’ve clocked them. They can actually fight thirty-seven times in an hour. That’s almost four hundred fights we’ll have to break up between here and there.”

I hadn’t considered that.

For a moment, the pointless squabbling, er…I mean the excited babble lulled me into a memory: My own family, piled into a circa-1980 station wagon (complete with fake wood paneling) trundling off to South Dakota for a week of absolute hell.

Was that the trip where my sister barfed in the Holidome bathroom? Was it the vacation where my parents dragged us into the Corn Palace? Where we were forced to “enjoy” a rock and mineral museum? Where I had to listen about Sheena Easton’s baby takin’ the mornin’ train seven hundred and thirteen times…each way?

And for a moment I became afraid. Was I destined to repeat the same road trip torture on my own children? This could scar them for life. I still get hives every time I see a picture of Mt. Rushmore. It just wouldn’t be right of me to do that to them.

But Dave Barry will be there. Yeah, it will be worth it.

Jennifer Brown is a freelance writer with award-winning fiction, nonfiction, and poetry appearing in over a dozen publications around the world. Jennifer's work has appeared in Writer's Journal, Australia's The Messenger, Long Story Short, and Simple Joy, just to name a few. Jennifer most enjoys writing humor essays, and her humor column, "Adrift in the Gene Pool," appears bi-weekly in The Liberty Sun News. In 2005, Jennifer's humor essay, "Fling Shui for Beginners," won first prize in the global humor category of the Erma Bombeck contest. Jennifer is also a book reviewer for Bookpleasures, Road to Romance, Foreword Reviews, and TCM Reviews, and teaches essay-writing and book reviewing classes for Writer's Success.com and humor writing classes at Long Story Short School of Writing. To find out more about Jennifer's work, visit http://www.freewebs.com/jennifer_brown.