by Kathleen Weisgerber

Created on: July 07, 2008   Last Updated: October 31, 2008

A Little Left of Paradise

When eighteenth century, Scottish poet Robert Burns coined the phrase "the best laid plans of mice and men ", he could have been referring to my family's first summer vacation. Since I laid the plans, I bravely take all of the blame.
We had all of our children out of diapers and I was finally not pregnant. I wasn't looking for paradise; I only wanted a comfortable cottage on a peaceful lake where we could all have fun together. What we got was nothing like fun.

It all started when I received in the mail a brochure of family fun spots for less money. I wanted a family vacation, but I also love a bargain (which comes from raising a family of seven on one salary). The brochure advertised comfortable lodging on a scenic, sandy lake. Sun and fun for about $400.00 a week, I was hooked. Not five minutes after reading the brochure, I was making plans.
My husband has also learned to love a bargain, so it didn't take too much persuading to convince him of the genius of my plan. I dialed the number and made our reservations, my pride growing. Because of my ability to spot a bargain, in a few months we all would be enjoying pleasant family time on a peaceful, sun-drenched beach. Well, Mr. Burns, that was the plan.
Things turned out a little differently. A trip that should have taken not more than three hours, took us six and a half, but considering the children in the back seat, it felt more like ten. Somewhere in hour five, and "are we there yet?" number eight hundred and seventy-nine, my slightly agitated husband pointed to a pond of let's say water, although I wouldn't want to have to prove it and told our inquisitive little darlings, "Yes! We're here. Doesn't your lake look lovely?"
He was joking, but as things happened, vacationing by that pond surrounded by dirt would not have been much different from our reserved vacation spot.
We arrived at twilight. At first sight, we were all very pleased. Tall, green trees surrounded cute and clean looking trailer homes. Flowers were everywhere. We stopped at the manager's attractive trailer and picked up our key along with the directions to our trailer. As we drove, the scenery gradually changed to fewer flowers and more dirt.
Finally, there it was, sitting precariously between two scrawny old trees and not more than three feet from a garbage dumpster. A little shaken but undeterred, we opened the door. One good look around was enough to assure us that we certainly would not all be spending the night

• 1
• 2
• Next Page >>