Thanksgiving, not so thankfully

I don't know when I started to hate cooking, but I absolutely hate cooking. It likely comes from the decades of cooking for a large family, both my own and my family origin. This year, I had the brilliant idea to take the family on their first international trip. This would be like killing several birds with one stone. First, it would scratch my insatiable travel itch, second, it would be a great family vacation, our first since my husband bought his clinic, and third and most importantly, I would not have to slog through cooking yet another Thanksgiving dinner.

Everything started out so well. I completely planned our trip, organizing our flights, hotel, AirBnB, reserved our rental car, and preordered and prepaid for several attraction tickets. This trip was going to be smooth sailing! I swear I think the Universe was laughing at me the whole time.

My husband and I traveled separately. I went ahead with two teenagers, and he planned to follow two days later with another. (Our 20 year old did not come, having just started a new job.) The three of us arrived in Dublin just in time to go to bed so that we could wake up bright and early to tour the city. We had a fantastic morning, but early afternoon things started to go south. The 16 yr old started to feel ill. We both thought it was probably a little jet lag, but it turns out to be a nasty cold/flu thing. Oh no.

Then I get a text from my dear husband. Due to a sensor error on the plane, his flight was delayed resulting in him and kid 3 missing their connection. They were on a 24 hour delay. This meant that I had to finagle a rental car of my own, because I had reserved it in his name with his credit card rewards. Then I had to get a sick teenager into the car and then try and find a very rural AirBnb.

I did it. I found the AirBnB, did some grocery shopping, and got everyone comfortable, then collapsed and had the best night's sleep I'd had in months. Surely, everything would be smooth from here on out, right? Wrong. The next morning I woke, and on my baby's 14th birthday, he too was sick. :sigh:

That afternoon, I returned to the Dublin airport to pick up the last two, and as soon as I saw them, I knew. Kid three was sick, too. Shit, shit, shit. Back to the AirBnB, sleep, and I woke to find dear husband sick as well. Luckily, I never got sick, so I got to play nursemaid for a full week. They started to feel better just in time for our flight home. Husband and kid 3 had a flight that left a few hours later than ours, and to add insult to injury, they missed it. Why? Because they were sitting at a gate that belonged to the wrong airline. I tried to give them grace because they'd been sick, but the $1100 it cost me to have their flights changed made that very hard. So did the fact that dear husband neglected to mention where he parked the car at the airport, so I had to wander SIX FLOORS of an enormous long term parking garage before I found my car using the panic button.

So that was Thanksgiving. I'm not thankful. My family now hates traveling, and wonders why I absolutely adore it. I just logged off of Expedia because I just booked myself a ticket to Florida to see my best friend. I need a vacation from my vacation.