Packing - It Helps You Enjoy Your Vacation Without Guilt

There’s something about America’s puritan work ethic that makes me feel guilty about vacation. Be it beach, mountains, Disney, Vegas, whatever, there's a little devil that sits on our shoulders telling us that we don’t deserve to relax, that the only people who deserve to relax are the handsome old people in the investment bank commercials who have clearly earned their lavish retirement on a Yacht in the Caribbean.

Fortunately, for those of us currently on vacation Austria, there’s an exercise that relieves the guilt. It’s called packing. Packing for a family makes daggum sure you earned your stay in the mountains. This is especially true if it's your first time taking baby on a vacation, and you’re aren’t exactly sure what you need. For example, we had to ask ourselves, “Will their crib be sufficient or should we bring the pack’n’play?” We brought the Pack’n’Play, happily, which we can shove in the darkest room in our holiday apartment.

When it comes to packing, my wife is management and I am labor. She thinks of every possible contingency and packs accordingly (which helps avoid my usual contingency: "How late is Target open? Is there a Target in Tirol?"), and I carry everything to the car like Atlas, except that I wear clothes, I don't have that much beard and none of our luggage is spherical, though that would be cool. Wisely, we have clothes and shoes for all sorts of weather, plenty of food, and lots of books (we’re both bookworms, and I’m a moody reader who needs options). Basically, we had just enough room in our Ford Focus for our necessities (yes, I said necessities) plus a family of three, squeezing our persons between briefcases, books and bananas (our daughter loves bananas).

Of course, it was the Ford that worked hardest out of all of us. Our car braved the twisty roads through the Alps weighed down like a Camel on which you shouldn’t throw a piece of straw. It handled like we had a full grown African rhinoceros seated next to our daughter. But the Focus truly was the little car that could, bless her, and she handled her duty with distinction.

But when we got their and unloaded, we, family and automobile, could rest in the mountains, as deserving as the retirees in the investment banking commercials.