It's all over now but the crying, we're safely back home and experiencing that strange post-vacation exhaustion brought on by any type of travel.
The children had decided last night to fudge the numbers a little bit about our departure time, so that the
Mother In Law might get her ass in gear this morning and allow us to leave in a timely manner instead of an hour and a half late as we did on the way down to
Florida. Thus, in our effort to have her ready to leave the hotel by 10:30 this morning to allow for traffic on the drive to
Destin, for the departure time of 12:00 noon, the story was circulated that we had to be ready to go by 10:00 in the morning.
I set my alarm early today, so I could grab a shower and pack my junk up, the wife was already packed last night, so by 9:00 we were all set. Since we felt no need to go and sit around in the
MIL's room waiting for everyone else to get ready, so we went downstairs and had breakfast at the little breakfast bar they set up. I had an omelet and the wife had some fruits and a bagel, then we decided to see how things were progressing upstairs.
There was a luggage trundle thingy already sitting outside the
MIL's room, with the
Uncle's one bag already on it, so that meant he was in the room, rousting his sister, which was a good sign.
The
MIL was all but packed, and the time was only shortly before 10:00, again a good sign...but the
Middle Sister and her brood were fucking around, so they still had to get their kid dressed, gather up all the bullshit the kid had strewn about, etc. So since we're not waiting on
someone else, they decided to drag their heels instead, I suppose.
Fuck, shit, motherfucker. I went onto the balcony to shoot the shit with the
Uncle and wait for the others to get it together.
We eventually got everything loaded on the cart, and headed down, letting the
Idiot Brother In Law go ahead of us with their luggage to allow room for the cart and all the bodies in the elevator, and then waited for the vehicles to be brought around. The
Middle Sister walked over to the store across the town square area to buy a couple of random t-shirts for someone she forgot souvenirs for, so we loaded up, told the
Idiot BIL we were going to go ahead and start that way, since we had to stop to fill up the
SUV anyway, and just meet them at the airport.
He circled the square to pick up his wife and we headed out. We stopped for gas in
Destin, fighting our way across the traffic coming and going, and then made our way to the airport.
Somewhere along the way, the
MIL asked how late we were for the plane, we told her that we were actually about 20 minutes ahead of the departure time, since it was a little before noon when she asked.
Her response,
which is just fucking priceless?
"I thought we were supposed to leave at 10:00? Why'd everybody tell me 10:00?" We explained that we thought it'd be easier to get her there on time if we fibbed a little, she mulled that over in silence, probably annoyed, while I mulled this over: She thought it was perfectly acceptable to be LEAVING THE FUCKING HOTEL 30 MINUTES AWAY FROM THE AIRSTRIP AT WHAT SHE
THOUGHT WAS THE ESTIMATED DEPARTURE TIME!
Holy shitballs, according to her weird ass world, she was 'ready to go' at 10:00, which would be
great if there was a plane
in the lobby of the hotel, but the actual airport is a full 30-45 minute drive from the hotel, and she thinks that's perfectly acceptable. Wow, just wow....thank
Christ for chartered aircraft, if we were trying to catch a commercial flight we might have to start a full 24 hours in advance and sleep in the car at the airport the night before just to stumble in on time.
We got everything unloaded and waited patiently for the other three to arrive. The waiting drug on, no one was answering their cellphones, though they eventually show up and we started loading into the plane. We finally left
Florida about 45 minutes late, and I mentally swore off doing this extended family vacation bullshit again in much the same fashion I did when we took
that cruise a few years ago, we'll see how long that lasts.
I found out later that the
Idiot BIL admitted to the
Uncle that he'd gotten them lost on the way to the airport, which is stunning when you consider the trip consisted of a right, a left onto highway 98, then another fucking
right onto a big clue called AIRPORT ROAD. How you can get lost over three turns is beyond me.

The flight passed quietly, though as we began to descend into
West Texas, the
Idiot BIL began second guessing where we were in relation to the ground based on the landmarks he thought he could recognize. This game got as old as it could really quickly, and when he corrected himself about what highway he thought was below us for the third time, I finally said "Hey, I really don't
give a fuck what highway it is unless we're forced to land on it, in which case I might need to know to get my bearings, so wait until that's happening, okay?"
Once on the ground at the airport back home, I had to restrain myself from smacking the dogshit out of their kid, which is just a horrible thing to say, but I've had about a week of a six year old basically ignoring anything the adults around him told him to do and I figure a nice sharp slap might get his attention when just repeating ourselves is a waste of fucking time. The
Middle Sister and the wife both needed to go to the bathroom, so we were trying to let them off the plane first (also because they were
closer to the door), and I've got this fucking kid
shoving past me to get out the door, ignoring the FIVE adults telling him to stay still for just a second and let the women off ahead of him. I've got my elbow across the tiny area between the seats in his chest and he keeps telling me 'excuse me, you're in my way' and trying to all but climb over me physically because I happen to be in his path, which makes me want to trip him as the women finally give up and let him push and shove his way past them just to expedite things.
Oh, my sweet gentle Jesus, I
cannot imagine raising a child like they have, who won't listen to
anyone around him and thinks that saying the 'polite words' around his asshole behavior somehow negates him being a rude little pig. If the wife and I do end up with children (and believe you me, a week spent with this unpleasant little shit has been enough to make me consider sneaking off for a fucking vasectomy on the sly) I will be
Goddamned if I'm going to stand by and just let the kid decide when and where anything happens when he's that young, because that's just
insane. I think you do your children an enormous favor by giving them some very distinct boundaries at an early age, if only to assure that the rest of the world won't think they're a complete asshole once they have to start interacting with the other animals. It's cute or easy to let the kid talk back to you and ignore you around the house, but eventually someone out in the 'real world' is going to smack the shit out of him because it's irritating.
Dropped off back at our house, we loved on the
Yorkie for a good long while, she was ecstatic to see us after a full week's absence, and then we went through the giant pile of mail and started to unpack.
We spent the rest of the day on the couch, the wife napped a bit and we eventually watched
The Soup and then called it a night, so she could catch up on some more sleep and I could get this over with.
Be seeing you.
Tag, you're it, Baggy Eyes! Travel,
Oilpaint Florida,
Airport,
Flying,
Destin Florida,
Annoyance,
Frustration,
Bitching,
Shitty Parenting,
Yorkie,
Television,
The SoupLabels: Airport, Annoyance, Bitching, Destin Florida, Flying, Frustration, Oilpaint Florida, Shitty Parenting, Television, The Soup, Travel, Yorkie