In which our heroes finally return from whence they came
We knew the end was coming. We had seen it all, done it all. On Sunday we would drive to Manchester, NH, to board a waiting jetliner that would carry us back to that dreaded thing called “real life.” Of course, we were bummed.
And when the shoppers get bummed the bums go shopping!
So, on Saturday after another yummy barbecue, we split along party lines. The womenfolk took off for bargain shopping (Bangor is all upscale now… they have a Tarjay), while us menfolk hit the pool hall.
We also took one last opportunity to seek out the elusive ketchup chips…
Yes! We found them! In one convenience store in town, they had a separate rack of chips that held Uncle Ray’s Potato Chips. I snagged a bag of ketchup-flavored ones to present victoriously to my daughter.
When I got back to the car, I looked to see where these things came from, seeing as how we weren’t in Canada anymore. The label said they were made in Michigan. That’s fine. They’re like almost in Canada. What’s this? “Quality, Service, and Price is our commitmet to our customers. We are in business to make a product that satisfies the consumer and to give a testament of faith to our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.” Followed by a bunch of Bible verses.
Holy Christian Ketchup Chips, Batman!
We’d hit the jackpot. Not only would Pepperkat’s friend be treated to chips the flavor of powdered ketchup, she’d get saved at the same time! Yes!
After that, there was only one thing to do. We went to the Dairy Queen.
On Sunday, we said our teary goodbyes and headed down the road. We made one last detour into York Beach, where we bought some saltwater taffy and made fun of all the furriners crowding onto one of the few small strips of sand in Maine. Then, with a sigh, we remembered that we were furriners now, too.
We arrived at the Manchester Airport, and the story I started with a Beware of Moose sign came full circle…
We arrived in Orlando (via Charlotte) at midnight–just in time for a thunderstorm to shutdown the baggage handling. After a couple of hours wait and a 45-minute drive home, we dragged our tired butts into bed. Home at last.
And what lessons did we take from this excursion?
- If more families traveled with sock puppets, there would be many more happy families. And many more highway fatalities (“I can too make Bobby lip-synch Queen’s “Fat-Bottomed Girls” while driving! What truck?”)
- Radioactive goats do not give you nuclear goat powers. Immediately.
- Bowling, billiards and beer are gifts from God. Use them wisely.
- Especially beer.
- Plastic earring monkeys: Sexiest. Jewelry. Ever.
- For the 10,000th time, there’s no such thing as a root beer hangover!
- My sister-in-law is nuts. (Not really a new revelation. Just added for completeness sake.)
- I can climb rocks faster than my kids. Oh yeah…in your face!
- Canada is way cooler than us. And that’s no pun intended.