Transcribed by Aunt Sunny
Every year the week before Christmas my family goes to visit my Grandmother in Virginia. This tradition, has spawned many smaller traditions: some good, and some not.
Like clockwork, as soon as school ends for the Holiday Break, we pile into the van and head North. Thus begins what I call: “The 24 Hour Nightmare of Death.”
Each time I am seated next to my big brother - aka- “The Monstrous Thing That Would Make a Grown Man Cry.” Last year, he decided that the heel of his foot should connect with my nose during the second hour of our trip, right as we crossed the Georgia Border. As a result, my nose bled for the next two hours. I don’t want to continue this tradition.
While riding in the car, our favorite past-time is to continually parrot the question: “Are we there yet? Are WE there yet? Are we THERE yet? Are we there YET?.” We do this until we are already THERE or until my Mom yells: “Enough Already! You’re gonna make me pull my hair out!!” I like this tradition. It is fun.
Halfway through our trip we stop at a stinky old motel where I get to share a bed with “The Monster,” also known as my big brother. Shortly after I fall asleep “The Monster” will start flailing around in his sleep. I wake up and realize that my dream about getting beat up was not a dream, it is actually happening!!
Fortunately, Mom always wakes up and sees what’s going on. She then removes “The Monster” from the bed. This is a tradition I do not want to continue...
For the rest of the trip I avoid heels and flailing arms while chanting “Are we there yet?.”
After five days with Grandma roasting marshmallows and snowboarding, we pile back into the van. I again sit next to “The Monster” and “The 24 Hour Nightmare of Death” repeats itself all the way home. Visiting Grandma is a great tradition, but I’m not so sure about the other traditions...
Like clockwork, as soon as school ends for the Holiday Break, we pile into the van and head North. Thus begins what I call: “The 24 Hour Nightmare of Death.”
Each time I am seated next to my big brother - aka- “The Monstrous Thing That Would Make a Grown Man Cry.” Last year, he decided that the heel of his foot should connect with my nose during the second hour of our trip, right as we crossed the Georgia Border. As a result, my nose bled for the next two hours. I don’t want to continue this tradition.
While riding in the car, our favorite past-time is to continually parrot the question: “Are we there yet? Are WE there yet? Are we THERE yet? Are we there YET?.” We do this until we are already THERE or until my Mom yells: “Enough Already! You’re gonna make me pull my hair out!!” I like this tradition. It is fun.
Halfway through our trip we stop at a stinky old motel where I get to share a bed with “The Monster,” also known as my big brother. Shortly after I fall asleep “The Monster” will start flailing around in his sleep. I wake up and realize that my dream about getting beat up was not a dream, it is actually happening!!
Fortunately, Mom always wakes up and sees what’s going on. She then removes “The Monster” from the bed. This is a tradition I do not want to continue...
For the rest of the trip I avoid heels and flailing arms while chanting “Are we there yet?.”
After five days with Grandma roasting marshmallows and snowboarding, we pile back into the van. I again sit next to “The Monster” and “The 24 Hour Nightmare of Death” repeats itself all the way home. Visiting Grandma is a great tradition, but I’m not so sure about the other traditions...
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