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.
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.
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.
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.