Square Peg ● Round Hole







          It is apparent that the art of packing for an extended vacation is a bit like preparing for an exam. I create a list of various items that we are taking. Then, with lots of overthinking, I begin the daunting process of actively placing those items in their respective bags. Every trip I declare that I will overcome the anxiety of packing and will have perfectly replicated the list without forgetting a thing. I forget that my brain is like a large slice of Swiss cheese and thoughts – well-intentioned ones at that – float away in a sea of darkness. Welcome to my bad neighborhood.

          As we boarded our flight to London, I was feeling a bit cocky. It was the first time EVER that I felt that I had risen to the occasion. My spouse and oldest are very trusting. They allow me the honor of packing all of their shit. Please don’t feel sorry for me. I have some control issues and they want to enable my addiction. They trust me to pack accordingly, however, history dictates that I am novice and have no idea what I am doing. 

          The results of my packing exam were not revealed until the day we organized ourselves in our stateroom on our cruise ship. My elation expanded as each item was pulled and placed in a drawer or hung in our wardrobe (closet for you Americans, but I am trying to be chic and fit in with the Brits). Brian then asked for a pair of Khakis, and I triumphantly displayed them like I was Vanna White revealing the correct letter. He put them on, and it was quickly revealed that they were not his.  Oops. I grabbed the other pair apologizing for handing him the wrong one, only to reveal the same issue. Maybe I should admit that this is not one of my gifts. It is possible that I need to redirect my anxiety to something else. Technically, they fit him but resembled highwaters. I think Brian could pull it off, but he couldn’t let me have a partial win on this. I get it. At least Bailey has an extra pair of pants just in case. See, it is all about looking on the Brightside or perhaps, just swimming in the sea of denial. All I know is that will continue to strive to conquer the packing exam as long as my family is dumb enough to allow me to continue. Bless their hearts.