Tripping

Husband and I have been arguing about our next overseas holiday destination. God knows why because the only places we can afford to visit are spare bedrooms within a driving radius of Sydney. Husband is mad-keen to take the Sprogs to Siem Reap. As in Cambodia. He’s been there. Says it’s absolutely amazing. So do lots of other people. That’s lovely, but I don’t want to take my nine and seven-year-old to Cambodia. I think we should wait until they’re older. Then the three of them can go together while I nip off to a nice spa somewhere (near lots of shops). Nup, no poetry in my soul. I want our next holiday destination to be the United States. We’ve been invited to the nuptials of Husband’s Badger friend. Let me explain. Husband won a scholarship to Columbia University a few years ago. There were nine other people doing the scholarship with him, which was called The Knight Badgehot Fellowship. Hence they nicknamed themselves the Badgers. The Badgers were a wonderful, witty, intelligent group of people who totally changed my narrow-minded perception of Americans. I didn’t get to hang out with them very much because I was busy minding two small children in a very small flat, but when I did I had a great time. Husband informed me yesterday that all Badgers are invited to the wedding. And I am desperate to go. Gagging for it. I am particularly keen to go without the Sprogs. That way we can do a quickie trip, do grown-up things and go out every night without worrying about babysitters (what a strange, exciting concept). This led to another disagreement: if Husband agrees our next holiday destination will be the United States instead of Siem Reap, the Sprogs must accompany us. Why must the Sprogs accompany us? We can’t afford airfares for ourselves, let alone the Sprogs. Which brings me back to the complete pointlessness of the whole argument – there’s no money to go on holidays ANYWHERE, let alone weddings in America. So I’d better start buying lottery tickets again, because while I’m ambivalent about holidays while I’m on them, I’m always desperate for another one within weeks of getting back. I’m already pining for Hawaii. And it wasn’t that great. Well, it was pretty good. Alana, stop moaning about your perfectly nice week in Hawaii. See, can’t take me anywhere.

Where are you going on your next holiday?

(We’re touring spare bedrooms in Canberra, Albury and Melbourne, which should be quite bracing in July.)