For the first time ever, we tried our hand at a “staycation” this past week. Now, I’m only using the term staycation because it’s become part of our vernacular, and you’ll know what I’m talking about. Because generally, I think it’s just a dumb, made-up word to describe a fairly lame concept.
Because of the shifts in school calendars due to Hurricane Sandy, my kids had an unprecedented week off between school and camp this summer. We’d thought about going away somewhere, but decided to stay home and do some fun local things with the boys, while still having time to relax and get ready for camp.
We went to the beach, and to Six Flags. We took the boys into New York to see a Broadway show (which was immediately followed by a testosterone-repleneshing visit to the nearby NBA store). So, yeah, that was fun.
We also took the boys bowling, where Matthew complained about losing the first game and Michael complained that he was hungry. We went to our local pool, where the boys complained they were bored. I did a load or two of laundry every day, served breakfast every day and dinner a few days, and argued with Dave about the clutter level in the house. Things that just made it feel like an extra-long sucky weekend.
So, I kind of came to the conclusion that while the concept is a nice one (and don’t get me wrong – it might work for some people), I’m glad that our “real” vacation at the end of August involves air travel and a hotel room.