Fantasy vacations

By Amanda

I had this fantasy. It involved taking my 7-year-old daughter on a vacation during her spring break at school. The idea was that we would share a mother-daughter bonding experience, and at the same time, I would educate her about historic spots in Washington, D.C., and New York. Like most fantasies it didn't play out exactly as I had imagined it.

Prior to the trip we looked at books, scoured the Internet, and talked excitedly about the things she wanted to see. The first leg of our journey involved a jaunt to D.C. with my mother, who also shared my fantasy about mother-daughter and mother-granddaughter bonding. Immediately, we realized that we might have made a terrible mistake. 

Each morning when we would leave to see an historic site -- the Washington Monument, the White House, the Capitol -- she would ask us almost right away when we could return to the hotel and go swimming in the indoor pool. By lunch time her pleas had become so desperate and annoying that we usually gave in and headed back to the hotel.

We arrived in New York during an unusual cold spell which I had neither planned for, nor packed for. I ended up buying hats, gloves, and sweatshirts from a vendor on the corner for both of us. It was a good look. 

On this trip we were joined by my father -- again another fantasy, this one spun around a grandfather showing his little princess the Big Apple. On our first trip to the Empire State Building we were greeted by a line that snaked around the corner and down the block; "Four hours," said the man at the end of the line. We returned the next day and were able to go up, but the freezing weather prompted us to avoid a ferry ride to Ellis Island. Instead, my daughter had to be satisfied with seeing the Statue of Liberty through her grandfather's binoculars. 

Walking the frigid city streets (especially in flats with no socks) was not the lovely springtime journey I had planned, so cab rides, and one very chilly carriage ride in Central Park, were the extent of our travels. Ultimately, my daughter's favorite part of New York was getting room service. 

Like a queen on her throne she presided over her $27.00 chicken tenders and fries laid out artistically on a linen cloth, complete with a mini-ketchup bottle.

Last week, I was going through her book bag and discovered an essay she had written about spring break. She described our "wonderful" hotel room in Washington (down to the room number, 302), and talked about how much she loved going to the pool. She went into detail about showering in the locker room after swimming and getting "free fruit" from a bowl in the ladies' lounge. She also described going to the top of the Empire State Building and seeing the Statue of Liberty (albeit a speck the size of an eraser on the end of your pencil.) 

I thought, "Well, maybe it wasn't my fantasy, but maybe it was hers." After all, isn't that what it's all about anyway?

Then, we were looking at a book that contained a picture of the Statue of Liberty. "Mommy, I heard you can really go up in it, seriously," she said earnestly.

"Really?" I said, realizing the jig was up.

"For real. The next time we go we'll have to go there, won't we?"

"Absolutely," I said. And I meant it.   

Amanda lives in North Carolina with her husband and two daughters.