The Gift of A Ski Trip

Many years ago, when most of the kids were still at home, we put together a Christmas plan one year: you won’t get much for Christmas gifts, but we’ll go skiing for two days after Christmas, condo and all.

The kids bought into this with great gusto because they loved skiing. All went well until Christmas when it was time to leave for the trip: their father felt a little guilty at the lack of gifts under the tree.

So he suggested a special outing on the way to the condo in the Colorado mountains. We pulled away from our house on the afternoon of Christmas, heading for some major snow.

How About A Christmas Steak?

“Let’s stop at that nice steak house on the interstate,” he said. He loves that eating spot to this day, even though it’s now closed. We’ve eaten at the new restaurant out of nostalgia for the old place, I think.

But back to my story. We pulled in at the steak house after savoring prime rib and mashed potatoes in our imagination for an hour. They were closed. It was, after all, Christmas day.

Hmmm. We hadn’t thought of that, so we continued to the next town and pulled in, hoping the Chinese restaurant there might work well.

Closed.

Christmas Closures

We were starting to get a clue, finally. But we had five kids in the car, and the Christmas cookies were wearing off. They were restless.

“Let’s try a fast-food place.” My husband had set his heart on a special mealtime family gathering, but his stomach was growling, too.

Closed.

Grocery stores were closed. Walmart was closed. 

We started to take stock of any energy bars that might have been left in coat pockets. Any half-eaten cookies? I wondered about the crumbs under the toddler’s car seat. Starving kids makes one delirious sometimes.

Oh, Thank Heaven…

Just then, my husband spotted a 7-Eleven convenience store. It was open.

We turned the kids loose. “Find something to eat.”

Because there’s virtually nothing healthy in a snack place like that, the kids were not bound to a balanced meal. They grabbed chips and popcorn and gallons of fountain drinks.

Their parents have felt guilty for years for not having enough foresight to avoid such a disappointment. We wanted to give them a nice steak dinner. Their special dinner included candy bars, rubbery hard-boiled eggs and who knows how many Twinkies.  

But I have been assured by our older son not to worry.

“I got a fistful of dill pickles,” he said. “Best Christmas dinner ever!”