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Show Short Cummings By KEVIN CUMMINGS Visiting grandma 's can be embarrassing, and tirina experience I recently took a long car trip with my family and it brought back a lot of long -forgotten memories. When I was growing up, my parents' idea of a vacation included several hours trapped in a car with my brother and me. We always went to visit one relative or another. At the time, I doubted their sanity. Now that I'm a parent, I know they were insane, but I understand why. My grandparents, who live in Nebraska, haven't yet had a chance to meet my 2-year-old son. Proud father that I am, I wouldn't want to deny them that opportunity (besides, he's pretty much wrecked my home, it's time he attacked someone else's!) My wife had a week off during the first of August so we decided to drive to Nebraska. Since we were going to see my mother's parents, we invited her along as well. Oh, and we also invited Mom to drive. We left early on a Wednesday morning. When I was young I always wondered why my parents left before dawn. I understand now. You leave before dawn for the same reason that executions take place at that hour-if you really thought about what you plan to do, you couldn't go through with it. When the sun crept over the horizon, hor-izon, we had made it out of Utah. That's when road boredom crept in. If you drive all day, everything begins to look the same. This is especially es-pecially true if you're travelling through Wyoming and Nebraska, By 10 in the morning I was certain that we had been on the road all day. Fortunately, my 2-year-old is a pretty good traveller. He sat in the back with my wife and entertained her by demanding a different toy every two minutes. This was good, as it gave them both something to do; my son played with the toys and my wife threatened to kill me if I ever suggested another car trip. By the time we stopped that night, I agreed with her. Fortunately, the second day was easier than the first We only had about six hours' driving to do. We pulled into the little town of Friend, Neb. at about one. My grandparents were delighted to see us, and they made us feel right at home. They made all the appropriate comments about my son's intelligence and charm, and I humbly attributed it all to good parenting. I had forgotten one thing. Old folks collect knick-knacks. My grandparent's house is full of breakable objects that are just in my son's reach. I spent the entire three-and-a-half days in Friend chasing my son and yelling "Don't touch." I'm sure he thinks I have a psychosis about touching other people's belongings. I had also forgotten that Mom and I had lived with my grandparents grand-parents for about a year. The Air Force had given Dad a year-long, all-expense-paid trip to Vietnam. Mom and I went to live with her folks. This wasn't so bad, except it gave my grandparents and all their friends a year's worth of embarrassing embarrass-ing stories to tell. "And then there was the time when Kevin and his cousin drank gasoline," my grandmother reminisced. "Or the time that..." By the end of the visit I dreaded the words, "or the time that.." Still, it was great to see my grandparents. I know now why my parents took us on all those trips. It's important to see your relatives, to know where you came from. Besides, if you don't visit your, relatives, how will you ever hear embarrassing stories about them? |