Remember that time you went on a Contiki tour to Europe and had the most hazy, yet incredibly amazing time of your life?
Granted, your liver almost called it quits and broke up with you, and most mornings were spent recovering from too many shots of Ouzo. You probably don’t remember any of your trip, except for one thing – it was f**king awesome.
Yeah, don’t we all.
These days, pub crawls and hostel brawls have turned into endless trips to Disneyland and other amusement parks that all look the flipping same. You can probably name every single character that Disney has ever invented, and you’ve probably met Mickey Mouse in person so many times, that you probably wished you could just jiu jitsu kick the sh*t out of his eternally happy grin.
Welcome to the new dimension of holidays with kids. It’s a never-ending rollercoaster of joy and wanting to jump off a bridge.
Plane rides will never be the same
Before: Okay – somebody tell me who quoted this? “It’s not the destination, but the journey that counts.” Mate, get f**ked. You were clearly spared from traveling with kids.
Pre-kiddos, you arrive at the airport, beaming with joy and filled to the brim with excitement of the wonderful adventures that await. You eagerly make your way to the departure gate, hugging your loved ones goodbye as you embark on your virgin voyage.
Leisurely strolling down the duty free aisles, you test make-up samples and make your first holiday purchases. When the plane hits cruising altitude, you knock yourself out with free economy class booze, because well, FREE BOOZE!
You put on your headphones blasting your favourite tunes because that crying baby in the front row just doesn’t seem to want to shut up.
After: Your back is turned on your child for less than a split whilst handing passports to the check-in lady, and your child has vanished into thin air. A million possibilities run through your mind of what has potentially happened to your spawn – you resort to the worst and have managed to convince yourself that he has been abducted by a child slave driver from Asia lurking at the airport. It’s a lost cause, he’s probably already halfway to Cambodia.
When you’ve finally calmed your distressed flaps – you manage to locate your rogue child and proceed to customs, farewelling your parents with tears streaming from your eyes. Not because you’ll miss them, but because there will be no one to pawn your kids off to.