Sunday, February 12, 2012
Yesterday, my husband and I decided to head on up to my parents’ condo—to get away, spend some time with the parentals, and just relax a bit. They are part of a TimeShare in Dillon and get the opportunity to use it every year. And while they have had it forever, the kids, Kent and I have never been able to get away to go.
We packed our suitcases for the one-night stay, took Gator to the Doggie Kennel, and started making our way up the mountain. At first I was nervous because it was snowing in Denver when we left. There’s nothing scarier to me than driving up the mountain with slick roads. I mentioned this to Kent who said to me, “Relax, it’ll be fine.” I gently reminded him of our trip up to Vail, and while it was awesome, the drive up was horrid. The tractor-trailers flipped on the side of the road terrified me.
Luckily the snow stopped before we even hit the highway. There was actually very little snow at all—even on the foothills. The ride up was uneventful, which is perfect for me. I love being in the car with my honey—just being able to fantasize about winning the 325 million dollar PowerBall and silly conversations like that. We did stop to get gas, and yes I did buy a few tickets.
We arrived in Dillon around 1pm, giving us three hours before we’d meet up with the parentals. Both of us were hungry, so we headed over to The Dam Brewery and got our grub on. Next we hit up the outlets, and Kent spoiled me quite a bit—although one of the things I got is for my birthday. With still 30 minutes to spare, we went to Old Faithful—Starbucks, of course. The very first time we met was over coffee. I love getting coffee with my husband. Just brings me back to when we met.
And then we got lost. My dad’s directions sucked. I tried calling them both on their cell phones, but their’s are the 1990 version of what a cell phone once was. I’m talking analogue and all. Ridiculous. I next called my sister, who’s been up here a few times with the parentals. Being the Queen of Directions, I figured she could lead me in the right direction—which she could if she was in the car, but knew no names of streets or how to figure out where the hell we were.
Finally, my dad calls and tries to lead us into where their condo is and, after several failed attempts, we finally arrived. Both of my parents were laughing at us—perhaps due to my dad’s telling us the road’s name didn’t change (which it did) or the color of the place was gray (it was yellow—was gray several years back, but had been painted). Nice. They helped us grab our bags and we settled on in.
Being with my parents is like being in an amusement park. I love just hanging out with them because they make me laugh my ass off. We sat there laughing and talking before deciding to go grab a bite to eat. We chose Jersey’s Boys—an Italian eatery in Dillon. After dinner is when the ride began.
Ever play Monopoly with your family? Every family has its own uniqueness when playing this game, and my family is no exception. It begins with the piece that is chosen before the dice is ever tossed. I am the shoe—I love shoes. No brainer there. Even when I chose the shoe, heads nod and there’s a slight chuckle of “duh.” Kent is the dog—a fitting choice being he even dreams of Gates. I’ll never forget the night when he sat up in the bed, still asleep, looked over at me and stated, “Guys like me have dogs like Gator; I’m just cool like that,” and then rolled over to continue where his snoring left off. My mom is the iron—and let me tell you, I grew up with this woman ironing every friggin’ Sunday. She’d spend hours ironing—I never understood the obsession. The basket was always a never-ending ordeal. I seriously don’t think the woman ever got to the bottom of the basket. And finally my dad was the car—you know, the instrument used to run people over. Yeah, that would be him.
The game began with the banker who one would think was drunk. After watching her exchanging her money with the bank’s money, and seeing the difficulty in counting monies back, I had to immediately take over. My mother somehow got drunk on her Ginger Ale and was unable to contain herself. She bought property after property until she literally had like $10 left. I shook my head in disbelief—seriously who plays like this? My hubby had jack for property and my dad was like the vulture that preys on the weak—sitting quietly and just waiting to make his move. Humpf.
Kent was the first to bow out—which was no surprise being he landed in jail at least 5 or 6 times throughout the game. I was the next to fold, with my corner of Boardwalk and Park Place quickly going to my father. My hotels meant zero, being no one landed on them UNTIL they had to be sold to the vulture. Damn bastard. My mom had come back—winning a huge jackpot when landing on Free Parking. Her property was soaring, owning an entire street with houses building.
And then, by some messed up twist of fate, my dad had maneuvered his way in for the kill. It was bullshit. Calling himself the “Master of Monopoly” he quietly destroyed the board and ended up winning the game—as usual.
I have never won Monopoly. Ever. And I don’t think I ever will. *sigh* Must run in the family, as my mom has never won either.
But with that aside, there’s nothing like spending time with family—laughing, talking, and just having a good time. When it comes to having a great family, I definitely have won.