Are we there yet?

With school holidays coming to a close, I bet there are plenty of kids out there counting down to the next ones already.

My memories of family holidays involved squishing always one too many siblings in the back seat of our unairconditioned (dark maroon) Datsun Sunny. Sunny...funny. Not. No, not at all, when the trip seemed to last always long enough for my sister to vomit, my brother to fart way too often as a comic device and my parents to come up with excuses as to why we weren't, yet again, flying first class to Disneyland rather than bucket carseat class to Lakes Entrance, or Bugara, or Bacchus Marsh.

To be fair, I did love our family holidays, if for nothing but the simple promise of more fish and chips than was humanly combustible. And anything was better than school, even if the vinyl was sticky, the chips were soggy and I'd always end up getting my period.

So here's to holidays! And to the time honoured wonder that is reverse psychology.


A Holiday Bargain


Please can we stay in a tent, Mum?
For once can we stay in a tent?

No way!

With the poles and the pegs and the sleeping bags,
go on Mum, let us stay in a tent!

You cannot stay in a tent, son.
There are flies when you stay in a tent.

But Mum!
I’ll swat them real good and I’ll zip up the door.
Go on Mum, let us stay in a tent!

No!

Well then, can we stay in a campervan?
It’s not like a tent at all.
It’s got real thick walls and real beds for us all.
Go on Mum, can we campervan please?!

We cannot all fit in a campervan.
They’re hot and, well, what if it rains?

Then I’ll do a rain dance; it won’t rain, not a chance,
Go on Mum, please for once?

No, No, NO!

Then Mum, can we stay in a caravan?
It has a real fridge, stove and sink.
And the rain won’t get in, and with air conditioning
you’ll be cool all day long with your tonic and gin.
Oh Mum, let us stay in a van.

Too crowded, my boy, not a chance, love
and, my, who needs stoves anyway?
We’ll go out to dinner each evening of course
and without the dishes I’ll feel no remorse.

But you always say, Mum, I eat like a horse.
A van would be cheaper I say.

Look son, it’s a NO to the caravan.

Well, what about renting a shack?
All my friends stay in shacks, in their old tracky dacks,
with beaches outside and old walls full of cracks,
with fans on the ceiling and little knick knacks
and stinky fish piled up high, stacks upon stacks…

WE ARE NOT GOING TO STAY IN A SHACK!

Ok Mum, looks like a resort hey?
A boring old, dumb old resort.
With a pool and a spa and a stupid old bar
and all restaurant food and a fancy hire car
and all you can eat and room service, blah, blah
and a room of my own with a view of the sea.
Well, big deal, ho hum, all that stuff there for me,
like movies all night on LCD TV,
with Arnie and Jean Claude on cable for free,
I’ll be just so bored I will go round my tree.

Do we have to stay in a resort?

Yes son, we do.

…Wickerrrd!

Elise Batchelor July 2010