I’ve often said, your first born child is like the first batch of cookies in a new oven. You as the parent don’t really know what you’re doing on this one. (We both know you feel like you’re flying by the seat of your pants more often than not)
I’m a first born, as well as the oldest grandchild on both sides of the family, which may explain a lot of things
Dad’s mom ( Oma) had a step sister (Aunt Sophie) who owned a vacation home on the island of Ibiza, (little island off the coast of Spain) She never had any children….keep that in mind.
I’m not sure who hatched the idea, but someone thought it would be good if all the grand children could take a trip to stay with Aunt Sophie as long as the opportunity lasted.
I was in the first deployment with my cousin Carol. The plan was for my brother to go the following year with our cousin Colleen, they never got to go.
Picture me, a farm boy from Iowa with a snorkel and flippers, slowly working my way along the shore line. No big deal right? Well, first of all, I can’t swim, flunked beginner’s 3 times, quit when I was a head taller than the rest of the class. Secondly , I was thousands of feet from the beach where I’d started, just a tiny speck by the time Carol’s mom spotted me. She told me later, she had visions of shipping me home in a box. I had discovered that the Mediterranean was so salty it was next to impossible to drown. For the first time in my life, I was swimming!
I’d had one year of Spanish in school, so Carol’s mother (my Aunt Ruth) assumed I was fluent in Spanish. We stopped by a beach restaurant to grab a bite to eat. Our waiter did not speak English. After pointing at the menu, he brought each of us a coke and lemon and one scrawny chicken, coved with pin feathers to split between the three of us.
Aunt Ruth looked at me and said, “I thought you could speak Spanish, what in the heck did you tell him????”
“I don’t know, all I know how to do is count to one hundred and tell him my name is Doug.”
“For crying out loud…” she said
Well, the two weeks went by way too fast.
Even though Carol and I were two of the most docile teens you could have ever found, our visit was too much for Aunt Sophie- she said that was last time she would host the grand children.
Children are remarkable resilient.
And second, the things that go wrong on your vacation often turn into your fondest memories .
So tell me, what are some of your fondest memories growing up?