A small part of us died saying goodbye to you mid vacation so that you could go back to classes at college.
It seemed appropriate to make our next vacation stop Death Valley. But we had promised Ryan another trip to Red Rock Canyon, so we stopped by there on the way to do some minor rock climbing. Now, since I had missed Mawmaw’s 70’th birthday celebration, I’d been looking for something to do with her this trip that we could consider 70’th birthday celebrati
The last morning started out as most mornings of my life have started. *Mom texts at 7:30am asking if we’re awake* *We don’t respond because we’re NOT awake* *Mom bangs on our hotel door* *I run to open it* Me: What. Mom: GOOD MORNING! As you know, breakfast is the MOST important meal of the day and we’re off to eat it, hope you will join us! So, I wake my sisters and we get to breakfast. This is where my family of 6—plus my grandparents—all squeeze around a table meant for 4
Ellie and I woke up to find out everyone had made it safely as we were unconcerned and sleeping.
Mollie, my mom, and grandma had stayed at a hotel that was way too sketchy for the high price they had been charged with no breakfast options. Rude. They had a long 2 ½ hour drive ahead of them.
Meanwhile, Ellie and I enjoyed a nice hot breakfast of waffles, sausage, coffee, and juice. We had to walk outside to get back to our room. It was freezing, windy, and snowing.
Today we started out at Cracker Barrel—like any great day should. I asked for Pecan Pancakes with whipped cream.
Unfortunately, waiters/waitresses never understand. When I say I want whipped cream, I mean, I want WHIPPED CREAM. As in, full coverage. Like, if I can see my pancake, I don’t have enough whip cream. Yet, I survived. Ryan: *Farts* Me: *Slaps him across chest* My grandmother looking especially tiny against the red rock. 3/4 of the Booth Kids feeling kind of cool on
Ryan shot archery in the morning and placed #49 in the country. As any good Texan does, we celebrated by eating Mexican food. The restaurant’s guacamole was less than satisfactory, but one cannot expect much when not in the deep South.
Next, was the Hoover Dam. My brother and Dad opted out of this adventure. Ryan: I’ve seen the Hoover Dam three times now. Once was enough. Me: I feel the same way about your face. So, off we went. When we arrived, we headed down to security. I
Today was a little less adventurous, but just as exciting. It featured: Chick-fil-a, archery, Panera, more archery, Panda Express, picking up family at the airport, and a trip down the LAS VEGAS STRIP.
Breakfast was great, except for the part where I watched my Dad sip his coffee and thought, well that’s nice, it must have cooled down enough to drink.
No. No, it was not. I think I burned my mouth off. So, it’s fine. Did he walk over by us—alone—just to fart? Did he think we
I was dropped off at the airport. Alone. But not anxious. At first. Let’s be clear, it’s not being dropped off, saying goodbye, or dragging your luggage around that makes flying hard.
It’s the walking into the airport. Questions like: Where should I print my ticket? What if I try to check in at the wrong spot and end up looking like an idiot? What if I go through security and they say, “No ma’am, we can’t let you through because you look nothing like your ID.” Worse, they sa