After we got married, the Professor and I set up an arrangement: One year, we’ll spend Christmas with his family, and the next year we’ll spend it with mine. Sure, there are some inequities; since we live near his family, we see them every (American) Thanksgiving, and we never go up to see my relatives for (
real Canadian) Thanksgiving.
This year, of course, is our year to go up to Canada to see my family, and for awhile, it looked like we might not be able to go. We can’t afford plane tickets (and I’m not really a fan of the TSA’s new full-body scanners or the
groping new pat-down techniques), and there’s just no way I was going to be able to sit for 14 hours in our fuel efficient, yet incredibly uncomfortable Honda Civic.
Then, Mum and Dad came through for us: They’re going to rent one of those giant, 15-person vans, so I can have an entire seat to myself and lay down, to make the trek. Instead of our usual one-day, no stopping marathon sprint, we’ll make the drive up to my grandparents’ house in a leisurely two. And $200 or so later (thanks, extra fees for applying for a U.S. passport for the first time!), I will (hopefully) be good to go. And, you know, come back.
I’m still a bit nervous, though. It will still be a long time in a vehicle for someone who gets stiff and painful after 30 minutes. It’s still going to be my dad behind the wheel, and I have horrendous memories of trips to Myrtle Beach when I was a small child and being unable to stop for pee breaks until my brother or I started crying. (Mum says he’s mellowed. I guess I’ll find out.) And, if I can’t get in to see my doctor in time, who knows where I’ll be pain-wise.
Even so, I’m super, ridiculously excited. I haven’t seen my dad’s family since Christmas 2008 and my mum’s family since before that. So, merry Christmas to me! Even if I end up stuck in bed for a week, it will still be worth it.