The Trip

Early on in my “vacation” someone posted a HuffPost article on my personal FB timeline that described the difference between a vacation and a trip when kids are involved.

I didn’t know.  Seriously, I didn’t know that I hadn’t been taking vacations for the last 18 months.  I had no idea that Hope and I were taking “trips.”

Oh, you bet your bottom, I know now, though.

So, picture it, two Fridays ago, I loaded up the Mini Cooper with a roof bag and piled Hope, Sister K and myself into car for a 9.5 hour drive to Boston–our first stop since I had 3 days of work to do there.

You know, it actually wasn’t awful.  We popped in an audiobook (Mitch Album’s The First Phone Call From Heaven), snarfed some fast food and took a couple of potty breaks before rolling up to our hotel at 11pm.

As if rolling to Boston with ish pilled on the top of my clown car like the Beverly Hillbillies wasn’t an indication that we were on a trip, real trip indicators were totally about to jump off.

We stayed in a super swank room–it was LAID! However, my office only booked a king room, so I ordered up a rollaway bed for Hope.

My girl was saltier than the Dead Sea that she would be relegated to the rollaway. Sister K and I were like:


You betta go on and lay yo arse on that dang cot and go to sleep, girl.

Day 1 – Boston

I was tied up in 12 hours of meetings and presentations.  After I was done we hit up a restaurant for dinner.

Hope: I woud like the Bourbonzola Burger please.

Bourbonzola Burger appears.

Hope: No one told me gorgonzola cheese was on the burger?

No, really, why bother with reading the details on the menu.  It’s sent back and replaced by something more “suitable.”

Day 2 – Boston

I had a modest 10 hour day of  work so we hit up the Minions movie that evening. Nope, no popcorn, we’re going for dinner afterwards.

At a swank Italian dinner:

Hope: I’ll have the spinach and cheese ravioli please.

Spinach and cheese ravioli appears.

Hope: UGHHHHHH.  You know I don’t like that much cheese; I can’t eat this.

I can actually feel her willing me to share my proscuitto and fig flatbread pizza. I take a deliberate, exaggerated bite out of all 8 pieces and lick the ham too.


Not today, Miss, I am NOT sharing ish today.  #allthewaypetty

Then there was another huffy silent treatment prompted by her continued stay on the rollaway. #girlbye

Day 3 – Boston to Martha’s Vineyard

Hope: This BBQ sandwich is so huge. I can barely pick it up; I probably can’t eat it all. Do y’all want to taste it?

(Note: Don’t ever ask me or my sisters to have a bite of something that looks super tasty and expect to us to take itty bitty portions. Hope learned that day.)

Sandwich comes to the front seat.

Half of the sandwich returns to the back seat.

Hope chose to not eat the rest of the sandwich due to a wretched case of the hissies.


By the time we got to the Vineyard and found that the keys and house info were not left in the realtors box for us, the driving, fatigue and trip-inspired annoyance resulted in me pulling off the road into the hospital parking lot and sobbing.

It got straightened out, and we had the pleasure of hearing Hope complain about this creepy house and the triggering of her bug phobia, thanks to a few creepy crawlies trolling the house at 11pm.

Just before we turned in, she declared —DECLARED—that I needed to only have her stay in hotels because she did not like this house situation and that’s what she prefers and I need to make her happy.



Let’s just say I got her together quick and let her know that my fantasy is an actual vacation without her and that it could be arranged.

Day 1 – MV

Rainy, complaining, buggy, whiny.

I ended up showing Hope what a grown folks’ hissy fit really looks like. It was epic. It was real. I might as well had been Kanye.


The rest of the trip actually improved considerably. Hope and I had a great time, and she already wants to go back, of course, that has more to do with the little cutie at the ice cream shop, but still.  We settled into a nice routine; she even did chores in the rental. It was a good trip after all.

But yeah, it was definitely a trip and not a vacation!


About AdoptiveBlackMom

I'm a single Black professional woman living in the DC area. I adopted my now adult daughter in 2014, and this blog chronicles my journey. Feel free to contact me at, on Facebook at Adoptive Black Mom, and on Twitter @adoptiveblkmom. ©, 2013-2022. All rights reserved. (Don't copy my ish without credit!) View all posts by AdoptiveBlackMom

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