My week in the desert is over and I have returned to LA. I head back to
Here is some of what my week in the desert with my entire family was like.
Top temperature: 114°F. Once I was inMax’s Dad treated us all like we were kids again – he is a friggin’ control freak.
Asshole kept me sane, believe it or not.
We took an awesome jeep tour out into the real desert and the
Max got in trouble twice at one lunch:
1. Eldest nephew had been pretending to slice across his wrists so I corrected him and explained how to slash properly.
2. Z was under the table and tickling Heidi’s feet (Heidi and Mat visited us for one day and one night). I said, “If you kick him, he’ll stop.” Eldest nephew laughed, everyone else was appalled. An angry chorus of “Max!”
On Tuesday night Max had a meltdown. I do this on every family trip when I just can’t take it anymore. I stayed in and cried and drank whilst everyone else went out to dinner. Asshole had given me his phone before they left: “Make as many calls as you want, talk as long as you like.” Thanks, Asshole, and thank you, DD and knottyboy, for being there for Max at her most desperate.
On Wednesday morning, Max’s Mama and the 3 Sisters had our spa treatments and then cocktails for lunch – possibly the only real relaxation I had all week. (Although sneaking out after my meltdown for drinks with Asshole had been good too.)
One evening Z broke into song when the 2 of us were out on the terrace: a single verse of Johnny Cash’s “Hey, Porter” over and over. Shortly thereafter we were playing around on the floor inside, and later that night Z refused to sit on my lap because “Auntie Max was too aggressive when we wrestled.” Weird kid.
I will be back at work on Monday and intend to get back to my normal posting habits as quickly as possible.
8 comments:
Families just suck sometimes. They know how to press the buttons, eh.
One of my favorite places in the world is the Villa Royale in old Palm Springs.
Like a spanish hacienda, it has 3 courtyards with pools, bar, restaurant, mexican fountains, lemon trees. You can float in the pools, waiters bring your drinks, and stare at the mountains all around, a 360 view.
Stay for 3 days and you feel like you have been there for 7.
And if you stay for 7 you'll leave looking Bob Hope.
Shut up and stop complaining Max. They are your family, they love you, it's 3 weeks out of your life to see the people who stand by you and love you. 3 weeks once in a while or per year. They bloody take you out and look after you. Your dad supports you in whatever you do. Suck it up and stop being a cry baby!
PS Qui est Truc cue?
Chatsy - you try living with my entire family for 7 days in the bloody desert.
Qu'est-ce que c'est Truc cue?
Wanna come to Montreal or Brno and visit with the costanza`s.... huh?
a truc cue is an asshole.
No way, Chatsy, I have heard enough about your family. And I am sure I met some of your Czech cousins.
Asshole/Truc cue is my little brother-in-law (whom I love dearly because he is not really an asshole at all). You do know his real name, of course, but like so many others, he wishes to remain semi-anonymous on the blogs.
Thanks for the vocabulary lesson.
I love desperate women, they love me. Hugs to you honey. Thank you for calling me.
k
My family rocks! they drive me nuts but then I wouldn`t have great stories to tell and make my friends laugh. I wouldn`t exchange them at the end of the day. No way!
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