The Announcement

As a parent, you yearn to make your kids happy. To clarify, you don’t just want them to be happy. You want to be the instrument of that glee. You want the feeling of exhilaration that occurs when YOU put that smile on their faces. You want the credit. Maybe that sounds shallow. Yet, if you carried that baby in your tummy for nine months (or helped your wife through pregnancy or waded through endless adoption procedures), then you deserve a little reward.

When your children are young, it’s fairly easy to be the source of their joy – an ice cream cone, a lollipop, a trip to the zoo. As they grow older, it becomes more difficult to be the hero. By the time they progress into their teens, it’s darned near impossible.

I know this first hand. My children are teenagers. Well, at 12½ years old, Autumn (my daughter), thinks she’s a teen. My son, Ethan, is 15. So, he’s official. At these ages, it’s difficult to extract any response from them – unless you text them, of course.

Perhaps this is why I’m still basking in the glow of the day I told them that we were taking a trip “Out West.” They were so excited they both started talking at once. When I mentioned we’d be traveling in an RV, they literally bounced out of their chairs.

For the first few seconds, I sat speechless and spellbound, just watching the scene. I had managed to make my teenage children happy . . . very, very happy. I was a hero!

Now, for those of you who may be suffering from parent envy – don’t. The hero complex was only fleeting. It wasn’t long until I was back to being the bad guy who enforces iPod limitations and denies requests for second helpings on dessert.

At this point, the trip was just a murky idea. The more we discussed this adventure, the more excited I became. Ethan’s and Autumn’s enthusiasm was contagious. And, that alone was shocking. (These are teens. I’m accustomed to their grumpiness being contagious.)

The vacation gods had smiled upon us, and the stars had aligned. We had four whole weeks to spend enjoying the western half of the United States.

At one point, though, I suffered a lapse into momentary melancholy. I realized this was the last chance we had for a trip like this. With Ethan’s sports and school schedule, we’d never be able to be gone for 4 weeks again. Autumn was quick to point out that she would be available for long trips for a couple more years.

Westward Ho!