So, Maggie! How was your awesome Mexico vacation?
Thanks for asking! There were some snags.
For example, someone removed most of the awesomeness from Mexico and put it somewhere else for a week. Was it with you? I hope so, because if so, it must have been raining glitter and cocaine where you live.
Mmm. Delicious glitter cocaine.
What happened, you ask? Well, have a seat.
Two days before our trip, Bryan left for Illinois to help our family bury his very sweet grandmother. We tried to postpone our trip so all of us could go, but tickets to Illinois were one jillion dollars each, and our cheapo tickets to Mexico were of the non-refundable, non-transferable variety. So Bryan flew out and arranged to meet us on our layover in Phoenix.
After this inauspicious start, the trip unfolded in such profuse layers of inconvenience and stress that I’m resorting to bullet points in the interest of time:
Two hours of sleep before leaving for the airport at 4 a.m. with our friend Libby and a sleepy baby.
Two hours of struggle when our US Air tickets somehow turn out to be with United, and United almost refuses to let us on the plane, because they are giant dicks.
Hank’s luggage is suspiciously absent from the conveyor belt.
Bryan and I go out for New Year’s Eve around 8 p.m. Bryan feels ill. Two hours later, he has trouble walking home.
Bryan sleeps for two days with a vicious flu/cold combo.
On New Year’s Day, Hank wakes at 4 a.m. He continues this charming habit for the duration of our trip.
Our friend Libby wakes with the non-alcohol-related urge to boot. Happy New Year!
Hank’s bag arrives at the hotel, sans both our camera battery chargers, which I’d groggily (read, stupidly) tucked into the suitcase in a 2 a.m. daze.
Hank gets Bryan’s vicious flu/cold. He is screamier about it.
Due to fruitless charger hunt, we leave too late for the house we’ve rented up North. We are driving in the dark, on isolated dirt roads, in the Mexican desert, with a toddler.
We arrive at the house to find another couple there. The house has been double-booked for the night. I briefly consider offing the nice couple from Rhode Island, as we are in the Mexican desert, and I’m not even sure that’s illegal here.
Instead we drive to a hotel in the dark, on isolated dirt roads, in the Mexican desert, with a toddler.
We return to the house the next day. After our first meal, we discover that the dishwasher runs but doesn’t clean the dishes no matter how thoroughly we rinse. This is irritating, as the water isn’t safe for dishwashing at tap temperatures. Hmm.
The bathtub tap doesn’t work.
I unwittingly take a swig of contaminated tap water. I immediately take two Immodiums.
Bryan rigs a bath by heating water on the stove. The next day the nice neighbor tells us it’s not safe to bathe in the water, because we have “other orifices” besides our mouths.
My intestines begin to roil.
When the nice neighbor showers, he keeps a dry towel nearby to wipe his eyes and mouth, in case any spray gets on his face. Do go on.
The nice neighbor says if you happen to drink the water, whatever you do, don’t take an Immodium. It blocks you up, and then the bacteria just breeds in your gut. Good to know.
Hank’s left eye begins to weep suspiciously. I first notice this when he wakes at 3 a.m.
I come down with Bryan’s vicious flu/cold.
Hank’s left eye becomes crusty, and his right eye begins to weep in a foreshadowing manner.
We head to the clinic in the closest town, about an hour away. Hank has a double bacterial eye infection and an upper respiratory infection. Hurrah!
Every two hours, we pin our child down as he screams and pry his eyes open so we can administer mystery medicine drops.
On our last night, the house runs out of propane, which means we can’t cook because the stove doesn’t work, and there’s no more hot water for showers. After all the neighbor’s advice, I suspect the lack of showers is a blessing in disguise.
Is that it? I think that’s it. Oh, wait. When I got home, I also contracted a mystery eye ailment. So that’s been fun.
Tomorrow, we’ll talk about the good parts, because there are always good parts, right? Right.
Let me sleep on it.