Relatives, Fish, and Vacation

For a winter vacation this year, we decided to test a theory: Do fish and relatives really stink after three days?
The perfect opportunity presented itself when my daughter and her husband, (the alleged driver), managed to “drive” into a ditch while the four of us were vacationing with a relative who used to like us -- my wife’s sister.

Our vacations sometimes involve going to a nearby relative’s house and hanging out for a day or two. Free food, no flying, no frisking and we can keep our shoes on. At 8:30 a.m., shortly after they left the mountain house, I hear this over the phone, “Dad, we’ve driven into a ditch.” We jumped into the aunt’s four-wheel drive and sure nuff, they/he had driven into a ditch.

The snow had begun that morning so, in blizzard conditions, we hauled them back to the house where we holed up with a ham, a turkey, two dogs, two cats and a yard full of anorexic squirrels. Had it been me, I would have said we either slid or were pulled into the ditch by a mysterious force. I would not have admitted to actually driving myself into a ditch.

Before I go on, yes, I’m very thankful they were not injured. But how does one drive into a ditch when going uphill? But I digress. Now my concern is how long it can snow in North Carolina, whether or not the food is going to last and how long it will be before the Scrabble game fight breaks out. The cats are eating the dog food, the dogs are eating the cat food and the humans are cheating at Scrabble (a family tradition) and eating anything they can swallow.

I keep reminding them that it’s a long walk to the local Dollar Store. It snowed all day, so the four-wheel drive vehicle has been reduced to something less than a good-size sled. A trip down the driveway would require a vote, as travel outside the “petosphere” has become a major decision. We can go down the driveway, but we can’t go up. We do have some quiche, but Warren Selby (The CrimeStopper guy) is the only real man I know who eats that stuff.

As the days pass, I’m afraid the dogs and cats are no longer going to look like pets. Until that happens, I’m wondering how long it will be before one of the dogs finds a cat claw in his jowls. Scruffy, the Dumpster cat, found (you guessed it) beside a Dumpster looking for a meal, was raised in the ghetto and knows how to take care of himself.

After we run out of the good stuff, I suppose we’ll eat dog and cat food and then dog and cat. I hear some countries consider them to be delicacies, and there’s really no place to hide around here. The interesting thing is going to be the humans. So far, so good, but it’s just a matter of time before someone accuses someone of less than honorable behavior and then, since there’s nowhere to go. You can see where this is going.
Do fish and relatives stink after three days? I’ll let you know. In the meantime, I’ve scheduled the waiting room of the local proctologist for next year’s winter “vacation.” I don’t foresee another invite here next year.