Every time we take a trip, our kids return home itching to relocate our family to wherever it is we just visited. Spend a week in Idaho, and they’ll plan their next birthday party at a Wonka-esque candy shop in Boise. A few days in Seattle, and they’ll want all their fruits and veg from Pike Place Market. A couple of weeks in the Outer Banks, and they’ll want to buy a house next to the surf shop. A weekend in Chattanooga, and well…you get the picture.
By now, my husband and I are accustomed to their constant requests to uproot everything and move hundreds (or thousands) of miles away, so that we can all live near “that great place with the awesome toy shop near the big sand hill that we slid down that day”. We’re glad they enjoy traveling and that they remember each place we visit – even details that may have seemed minor to us. It makes sense, given the excitement and newness of each destination.
But I have to say I was a little surprised the other day