We’re A Happy Family

I don’t seem able to remember when it finally hit me that things were different with my family. Possibly in elementary school, when the time inevitably came that Teacher would ask every student to take a moment to tell the class what he or she had done over the summer. I can, however, quite clearly remember the arched eyebrow and confused expression on each teacher’s face as I related my stock answer, “Nothing.” Every other child in the class mentioned trips to the beach or visits to grandmother’s house three states away while I sat, eyes lowered and silently begging my teacher to forget about me. Every summer before the hectic school days gave way to the quiet lethargy of summer vacation I would beg my mother to take us somewhere, anywhere, just so that I, too, would have a travel experience come August. Every time I would be met with the same answer, “You know daddy won’t go anywhere.”

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