Tortured in Europe

 Last month while I was powering through Covid, my husband and youngest son were on a weekend getaway with family.  I was laying in bed pouting and binge watching anything and everything on tv when I got a FaceTime call from my husband.  I am going to pause right here for a minute.  I am sick, do you really think I want to participate in a video call?  The answer is no.  No, I don't want my unwashed face and greasy hair to appear up close and personal with a team of people having a great time at a restaurant in Atlanta. So, I ignore the video call and eventually answer when he calls me like a normal human would call a person who is obviously not in a condition to be on video.

The discussion amongst the family that required my participation was about how we tortured our children try "dragging them" throughout Europe.  The younger was complaining to his Uncle and Aunt that we forced him to go to all these places and do all these things in Europe and it was awful.  The Uncle was outraged.  So going to places around that world that most people only dream of was torture?

Since that chat, we have talked about our travels throughout Europe a few times.  I think the truth is, the younger doesn't actually remember much of Europe at all.  In a court of law, I would suggest if you can't remember the good times, then how valid is your memory anyway?  Thanks to Facebook memories that pop up every day on my feed, I am reminded regularly of the incredible adventures we have had traveling in the US and across Europe.  Each time a photo pops up of the younger doing something incredibly crazy cool, I share it with him with the same question "does it look like you are having fun?"

June 4, 2012, there was a photo of him posing with one of the surviving soldiers who stormed the beaches of Normandy.  We accidentally ended up at a reenactment of the invasion of Sainte Mere Eglise and watched hundred of soldiers jump from airplanes and land in a cow pasture on the outskirts of the city.  There were also ice cream cones, climbing on old allied tanks, and sitting in WW2 Army Jeeps.

The kids were not impressed by the museums or the historic value of the places we visited but for the most part, they were just kids eating good food, playing in fun parks, and creating their own adventures.  They rolled down the soft hills on the King's Seat in Edinburgh, swam in the clear salty waters of the Adriatic, danced on tables at Oktoberfest in Munich, learned to ski in the French and Austrian Alps, and so much more.

They might think that traveling around Europe would have been awful for a kid, but we did a darn good job of making sure they were having fun too!  While I do have some photos of them throwing a fit or crying on a trip, I have thousands more of their smiles and they can't deny that!

In exchange for them putting up with our torture in Europe for three years, we spent the next three years of their lives doing what they wanted, cruises to the Bahamas, Disneyland and Disney World and lots and lots of time with family.

When they complain, I just share a photo or two to remind them just how sweet they had it.