On Holiday

The last few weeks — looking for work, holding down the fort here — have been exhausting. All the TV I’ve had to watch and the nachos and pop tarts I’ve had to eat. It was just too much. A break was in order.

So with plane ticket in hand, we’re swapping frigid mid-atlantic weather for more of winter — but at least we’ll see the fluffy stuff. The whole fam-damily is voyaging to a land far far away. A little-known mountain country, accessible by plane or donkey. The locals fondly call their exotic nation: Utah. Others call it “the Mormon State or “the where can you get a drink around here?” state.

I’m not sure our journey can be classified as a vacation. Does a ski trip accompanied by two toddlers, my stressed-out mom, and my dad with advanced dementia, meet the definition of vacation? We shall see.

They’re laughing on the inside, trust me.

To my loyal readers — all 4 of you — I promise to return with a suitcase full of stories. Toddlers and diapers, dementia and ski lifts. Hilarity ensues.

Have a happy week, all. Enjoy February’s last nicotine-racked breaths. (I guarantee that February inhales.)