Married to the Military — Summer Vacation
Jul 15 2008
Twenty-four hours, fifteen minutes, and thirty seconds. That’s exactly how long it took for one of them to utter the words I didn’t want to hear just yet. The backpacks weren’t even unpacked and one report card was still sitting on the coffee table —the other had mysteriously disappeared before I could look at it.
I’m bored. There’s nothing to do.
It was spoken in loud enough to make the neighborhood dogs come running and it was accompanied by the tormented, in-pain face only someone under the age of 10 can effectively manufacture.
It would be OK if they each said it once and were done with it. But, as any mother who has suffered the slings and arrows of summer vacation well knows, that’s just not ever going to happen, now is it? Things only get worse and it’s in the job description of a mom to endure it no matter how many times you hear it from your future Academy Award-winning recipients.
Why can’t we have a puppy? We could name him Schnitzel. Abby/Fallon/Sophia/Jason/Riley and/or Peyton (take your pick) has one. Why can’t we?
Our German lease won’t allow it. Maybe the next place will.
When are you going to take me to Paris?
Someday, honey, when the dollar-to-euro rate decides to rise above poverty level, affording us and every other American in Europe the opportunity to sleep somewhere other than in the main train station.
When are we going to move?
Ask your father.
I’m hungry. What do we have to eat?
Open the refrigerator and see for yourself.
Can Abby/Fallon/Sophia/Peyton and/or Riley have a sleepover here?
Of course.
I’m bored. There’s nothing to do.
Go ride your bike.
Can we have a puppy?
Fifty-six days, eight hours, and one full body massage away from the start of the new school year.
— Janet Farley is the author of The Military Spouse’s Complete Guide to Career Success (Impact Publications, 2008) and writes the career advice column JobTalk for the Stars and Stripes newspapers.
