The After-Effects of Cruising

Love BoatI know cruises are supposed to be a splendid way to replenish your energy and deplete your bank account, but I didn’t realize the effects of going on the Love Boat would be so long lasting. It’s been three months since we went on a five-day cruise to Mexico for my parent’s 50th anniversary, and we’re still feeling the after-effects.

I finally got my land legs back last month, and the trip is paid for, but my son still expects turn down service and a mint on his pillow.

Worse yet, he’s decided he likes the 19 meals a day plan. It seems like every time I rinse another dish the kid is asking for more food. “Hey mom, my stomach’s got a little more room. Isn’t it post-brunch, second snack, pre-high tea appetizer time?”

Seriously, I don’t know what they put in the water on those Carnival Cruises, but we’ve created a monster.

Case in point: we went out to dinner the other night and Koss wanted to order crab legs as a starter, followed by a Cesar salad, French onion soup, steak and lobster, with both rice and French fries on the side, and a molten chocolate lava cake and crème brûlée for dessert. “Oh, and don’t forget the warm towels between courses,” he asked politely. The cashier at McDonalds was very confused.

At least the cruise taught him about washing his hands with something other than his tongue. But seriously, he’s having a bit of a hard time adjusting to his tough life as an average nine-year-old.

I get it.

It’s hard to go back to real life once you’ve experienced having a whole crew of maitre d’s and supervisors watching the waiters, dessert staff, bartenders, sommeliers and toque-toting buffet servers at your beck and call, just to make sure you don’t do something for yourself that they could do for you.

Then there’s the freedom of being able to sign for anything extra your little heart desires. I understand how it went to his nine-year-old head, but it’s got to stop. When we stopped by 7-Eleven for Slurpees the other day, he wanted to just “sign the bill” for all of his friends.

I fear all that service has scarred him for life. Thank goodness it was winter, which saved him from seeing a lot of people nearly naked that we would all prefer not to see nearly naked— although not from having to witness a case of suntan lotion being spread over the white expanse of skin belonging to a certain family of die-hard sunbathers from the Midwest.

Meanwhile, after traveling with our whole extended family (my side, which is much more opinionated than his) my husband and I have lost all capacity to make decisions for ourselves. We’re working on this, day by day.

I almost broke down and called my mom the other night when I couldn’t decide whether to make chicken or fish for dinner.

Luckily, Koss solved that dilemma for me. “I’ll have them both, Mom. What are we having for a palate cleanser?”

Originally published in the Santa Barbara Daily Sound on March 27, 2009.

When Leslie’s not reminiscing about vacations, she can be reached at Leslie@LeslieDinaberg.com. For more columns visit www.LeslieDinaberg.com.

 

 

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