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With each of our commitments, we just had this long-weekend to spend some time together. After doing some research (thanks to my sister), my dad settled out on heading out to the blue mountain. We packed our bags and as much food (ahem, mostly junk) as possible, having never gone there before, we were worried about possible food options (to exclude starvation). And there is no fun on an empty stomach.

We picked up our brother up early from school, under the pretense of having to do something very important (which is true, going miles away from home on a vacation requires preparation). As soon as he got home, we had lunch and stowed our bags in the jeep. We are a big family, with six members, including our parents. So every time we go on a holiday, we end up with lots of baggage and even more confusion. It can be embarrassing sometimes.

And like usual we couldn’t just have reached the inn without the highlight of the trip. The problem, which the rest of us have a problem with, and then the blame ball game starts. It is a lot of fun, unless you are at the receiving end, the only person who has difficulty coordinating and gets hit by the ball, repeatedly. Unfortunately (for her), this time it was to be my sister. Even though, spring had started, it was still chilly for most of the day and cold at nights. She suggested to the rest of us that it won’t be that cold and none of would need a jacket. My mom, on the other hand, still advised us to keep a sweater or so, just in case it does get cold. My brother decided he was ‘manly’ enough to handle the cooler air. My other brother (the one who was picked up from school) never leaves without a hoodie even if it is 30 degrees. My sister naturally didn’t, as per her suggestion. I did, agreeing with my mom’s precautionary measures. Unluckily, she forgot to pack one for my dad, who is sensitive to cold.

On our way to the inn, my dad asks “where is my jacket? I am feeling cold.” My mom asks my sister, who asks the rest of us, hoping one to spring out of somewhere. After further repetitive queries, just giving the jacket time to materialize out of the air (and also as a reaction to surprising disbelief), all hell broke loose, only metaphorically. My dad groaned all the way to our destination at intervals. My mom told my sister off, who kept claiming that she wasn’t responsible of doing everything.

Luckily, we thought to stop somewhere on our way to buy a jacket (ahem, me, me, my idea!). Thank goodness, to the town of Barrie, for erecting a nice sized mall, and to Urban Planet, for their jacket. Things got a bit quiet and boring the rest of the way, except of course I didn’t forget that to fill in the silence with whining at my dad to close the radio, which, in my defence, had been blaring for the past two hours (trust me, it was painstakingly annoying and perfect for a head ache). Finally, half an hour before we got to our destination, my dad decided to humour me and switch off the radio.

Other than the usual family holiday drama, the drive was beatific. The scenery filled with quaint little houses, commercial areas, huge farms and lots of greenery.

We got there physically stable.