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National Lampoon’s Red Hot Vacation

Sunday morning at 7am I loaded up the fam in the trusty family truckster and pointed it south, headed towards Medford, OR. 7 hours later we were enjoying the Rogue River Valley area and readying ourselves for Santy to shimmy down the chimney, while reassuring a 6 year old that Santa will indeed relocate any due presents to our new locale.

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The usual stuff happened when being introduced to what will be part of your new family after you get married in a week…uncomfortable silences, witnessing in-family arguments, explaining the many wonders of beer and hot dogs, and fully placing your foot in your mouth on more than one occasion. It was a great time, and I realized soaking in a hot tub while it’s snowing is one of my new hobbies.

Speaking of snow, we saw a lot of it. Driving over Grant’s Pass quickly turned into navigating a Donner-esque snow storm.

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If you have never enjoyed the thrill of being hit dead in the face with a snowball, here’s what it looks like mere seconds before it happens. My soon-to-be-brother-in-law is in the background. Note grapefruit-size snowball in soon-to-be-brother-in-laws-hand.
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Refreshing. If you’d like to recreate the event, look at this picture, then simultaneously cover your face with a frozen washcloth and stab yourself in the face with every fork in the kitchen. That should do the trick.

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