Post a Comment On: Occupation: Dad

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We are supposed to be at Disney World right now. We postponed our first substantial vacation in many years, and thank God we did.

It all started last Saturday afternoon when Benjamin told us in a tired voice, "I have a terrible  headache." Now, this could have meant a lot of things (as my discussion of kid symptoms explores). It turned out to mean 'I'm going to be miserable for three days and puke a lot.' The poor little guy!! Fortunately, we were at home when learned. Less fortunately, we were scheduled to leave for DisneyWorld in three days.

To Convalesce At 38,000 Feet Or Not To ...
We quickly looked into what costly consequences we might be up against if we rebooked for a later date. Meanwhile, Benjamin got pretty  much better, and we considered going. We took into our minds, however, enough of his Dr. Jeckyll-Mr. Hyde convalescing behavior. We thought about it and imagined having Ben's first plane ride begin with us carrying him on board, terrified, balling and saying, "I won't go! I won't go! I do  want to go! I do  want to go! I won't go! I won't go!" Nausea or not, we would have had to use the complimentary sanitary bags located on the back of the seat in front of us before the jet even began to move.

That experience would have forged lovely memories and associations to prepare Benjamin for his third flight — probably later this year — when he will be cooped up on the plane with us for a relaxing 18-hour jaunt to China.

Further, our clean-up-puke time had severely restricted our get-enough-rest-so-you-enjoy-the-trip time and our neatly-packing-suitcases time. Had we gone, we would have had to run out the door with a house in shambles to return to.

Though it doesn't sound like a good thing, my wife luckily began to feel queasy just when we had  to make a decision. That clinched it.

Thankfully, the cost of delaying the trip was quite reasonable, all things considered. We'll be going a little later in May.

Providential Decision Affirmed: The Crud Hits Me Mid-Week
Incidentally, the virus hit me mid-week, fast but hard. Benjamin was not  kidding when he said "terrible headache." Man alive !!! (I've never had  a dagger stuck through my head, but I feel like I now know what it feels like.) I'm so glad I wasn't paying $100's/day in 88-degree Florida to lie in a hotel bed, moaning, aching, with a 103-degree fever, praying I wouldn't vomit, not having the energy to convince my wife that she must take Benjamin to the park herself and try to get him to go on rides he's afraid of because he's tired and moody, only to hear later how he refused; to force my wife to alternately listen to my feverish babbling and Ben's crying about how he really did  want to go on the Dumbo ride now. I was quite able to moan and enjoy my delirium in my own bedroom much more affordably, thank you very much.

I obviously have no idea what our vacation will hold. Nonetheless, I just know  it will be better than the one that almost was.