part six in a week-long series about the rituals of summer-vacation-taking
when i was growing up, my dad had only one demand when we went on vacation. that demand was breakfast. he didn't care much whether we spent all day in the ocean or walked the pier 25 times or sunned ourselves into oblivion around the pool reading magazines with our walkmans turned up. but breakfast was non-negotiable. and it was early.
at around 7:30 in the morning, he'd start to get antsy, and no later than 8, we were dragged out of bed, pulling our hair back in sloppy ponytails or grabbing a baseball cap, and sliding on flip-flops or jellies or those adidas slipper-shoes to go to some spot that would serve us bacon and coffee and maybe some biscuits and molasses. we protested mightily.
but now, so many years later, guess what each of my siblings and i consider to be an inviolable part of going on vacation? yes, indeed: breakfast.
i'm curious: what are your vacation must-dos?