CONTEST Finalists for family vacation stories!

Thank you for submitting your colorful tales of family trips. We now have this week’s three finalists. The winner will have his or her story published on Sunday AJC and will be qualified to win the grand prize, a getaway trip.

Folks, we need your help now. Take a look at the finalists’ tales. Then vote for the family vacation story you like the best.

Which author should win this week? Check out the prize!

• The poll is at the bottom of the story.

“Pull My Finger”

By Ed Fussell of Lawrenceville

One family vacation stands head and shoulders above the rest. I’m pretty sure I was 14 when my parents decided to take the family to Washington, DC for what I now refer to as “The Finger Vacation”. (The name will come into focus momentarily.)

My sister and brother, who would turn nine and seven respectively that Fall were cool with it, but I was actually excited about seeing our nation’s capital. I had been to two states – Georgia and Florida and was looking to broaden my experiences and this was my chance.

My excitement first began to dim when I realized, like all trips, we would be driving. The drive from south Georgia to Washington D.C. is a good, LONG day.

When experienced from the backseat of a Ford Tempo jammed together with your younger brother and sister, the trip gets even longer. Fortunately for us, Dad chose to only drive halfway the first day and we disembarked for the night at South of the Border motel at the NC/SC border. I don’t know really what to say about this place. It’s a Mexican themed motel complex. Everything is decorated and built in faux Spanish architecture. When you check in, you are escorted to your room by “Pedro” – whose name, I have a sneaking suspicion, is not actually Pedro.

DC was great but, the main highlight from this trip both involves a finger.

The author, Ed Fussell

I am sure most of you are familiar with the old “pull my finger” game. Dads have been playing this game with kids for generations. Apparently the week-long trip and the steady diet of fast food had begun to wreak havoc on my digestive system. This was building to a crescendo by the time we set off on our day-long drive back home. This, combined with the fact that I would be jammed into the aforementioned backseat for 12 hours next to my little brother, was the creation of the perfect storm. As the drive got rolling, I knew it would get worse before it got better and about an hour into our trip, it was time to play the game. My brother, being 6, was the perfect foil for my game. I extended the offer to pull my finger the first time and he readily obliged. It was funny to us, but not as much to Mom, but I think she assumed it would be a 1 time occurrence. Little did she know.

As the trip continued, so did our game. In fact, my brother was such an accomplice, I didn’t even have to say anything, the extended finger was sufficient. All the while, Mom was getting less and less patient with our game. In fact, it finally ended abruptly when she told him, if you pull his finger one more time you are in trouble. (WHAT?!?!) Seriously, my mom is pretty intelligent, but I think someone convinced her that the finger and gas emission valve are directly connected. She has worked in the medical field forever, but maybe nobody ever mentioned this one to her.

Rest in peace, Mr. Squirrel

By Chris Ferguson of Atlanta

About 20 years ago, my family and I planned a vacation to Epcot Center in Orlando. A couple days before leaving for vacation, our pet cat had caught a baby squirrel. We were able to rescue the hairless squirrel, whose eyes had not opened yet, and care for it.

The day we drove to Orlando, my father mentioned we could not leave the squirrel in the hotel as there was a chance the hotel staff could find the pet and kick us out. So, we checked into the hotel, freshened up, grabbed the squirrel, which was residing in a Girl Scout Cookie Box, and went to Epcot. Worried about the family budget at the time and the price of admission to the park, an executive decision was made to save the $5 pet boarding fee at Epcot and leave the squirrel in the car. Yes, Precious, the squirrel, was left in the car, in Florida, in the middle of the summer.

My family enjoyed the park and, feeling we had just had the best vacation ever, headed back to the car. Getting into the car my mom looked at my father and said, “we have a problem.” Precious was not moving. My mother, who thought Precious had a heart attack, started CPR. As we drove back to the hotel, my sister and I watched in horror as my mother performed mouth to snout.

The author, Chris Ferguson, with his mom.

After a few minutes of the life saving technique, my mother told us the squirrel was gone. She put the squirrel back in the Girl Scout Cookie Box and let my sister and me say good bye. When I looked at Precious, she had the look of a hot dog whose eyes had popped open like two fried eggs. Our vacation ended with my mother performing a burial service in the parking lot of the hotel. My father was not in attendance as he was in the dog house. 20 years later my family still reminds my father of the incident with Precious.

The Irish Flame

By Amy Woodward of Carroll County

We are a family of four and we love to travel. We were going on a trip to Ireland and my brother, who has a friend from Ireland, decided to join us. His friend offered to let us stay in their cottage while we were there. This was an extremely gracious offer and considering the positive impact on our travel budget, we accepted.

We visited Cork for a few days and did some sightseeing prior to heading north to the cottage. First, I would like to note that it was winter, and I’ll leave it at that. Second, the cottage was located exactly in the middle of nowhere.

We stopped twice for directions while driving in sleet. The second stop was one of my favorite experiences of the whole vacation because of the authenticity of it. It was late at night and we were on a country road looking for our turn.

We pulled into a pub and walked in to a room that looked very much like someone’s living room with a fire place and a bar in the middle of the room. The bar was lined with little old men who were only able to give us directions once they figured out the family tree of the person who owned the cottage. They pointed us in the right direction and when we pulled into the driveway of the cottage, it looked like something out of a fairy tale (from the outside).

The author, Amy Woodward, with her children

My husband and brother went in to get a fire started and to turn some lights on. We got inside and found a lot of bugs, a single wood burning stove that had not been used in quite some time, and no way to wash/dry our bedsheets in order to go to bed. We were tired, hungry, and a little scared to turn the lights out. We made some macaroni and cheese and played UNO in the kitchen/living room while we waited for the stove to heat up the room. Since this was the only room that was warm, we pulled the chairs together and decided to sleep as best we could. I drew the short straw and slept straight up in a chair with my 7 year old daughter draped across me.

About an hour after we had all fallen asleep, we noticed the room started to smell smokey and the pipe coming out of the top of the wood burning stove was glowing bright orange. I quickly gathered the kids and our bags and headed to the car. On the way to the car, I noticed dozens of blinking eyes reflecting at me from the dark. Apparently, we were surrounded by a field of sheep, which I wish I could have seen in the daylight. My brother and husband put the fire out and returned everything to the way we found it.

We got in the car and drove to Galway to find a hotel room. There was a sporting event going on in the city, so after stopping at several hotels, we started to get a little discouraged. Finally, I remembered the hotel we had originally booked, which was just outside of town. We showed up at 2 a.m., bedraggled and wreaking of smoke. The gentleman at the desk, who obviously felt sorry for me, told us that he did not have a room to sleep five, but we could take a double room and drag the cushions in from the couch in the hallway for one of the kids to sleep on the floor. We gladly took it and enjoyed the rest of our trip.

To this day, if you ask my kids about their trip to Ireland, they will first tell you about the night we ‘burned down’ the cottage

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