_{Image from my personal gallery}

The small accompaniments

I've been up all night: that always happens when my parents tell me we're going for a walk or a trip. I don't sleep, looking forward to the trip, afraid of falling asleep and being left behind:

_Is it dawn already? - I wake up my older sister who sleeps on the bottom of the bunk.

"No, not yet. Go to sleep,” she says annoyed and half asleep. I squeeze my eyes shut, but the excitement of leaving doesn't let me fall asleep.

When dawn breaks, the house turns into chaos because everyone has to be ready at 7 o'clock and there is only one bathroom. Mom makes takeout, Dad checks the car and we, my sisters and I, get ready and put things in our bags.

It's summer vacation and we won't have school for 45 days. Dad and Mom, since they work as laborers at a university, are also on vacation so we use these days to travel, go to the beach or just take a walk in the neighboring states.

At 7:30, after some nagging, we're ready. We get into the blue Malibu and my dad turns on the player. My parents ride in the front and we ride in the back, laughing, talking and even fighting:

Dad, Nancy is making fun of me, says my older sister.

"Dad, Nancy is teasing me,” I repeat, making faces at my sister.
Behave yourselves or we're going back,” warns dad and we all stay quiet.

I always like to ride in the window because I not only see the scenery, the people, I also like to read all the signs on the side of the road.

"There it says Camacuto. Camacuto for sale" - I say out loud as if no one knows how to read. Other times:

"Corn on the cob for sale" - I read and immediately say - "Oh, I want corn on the cob, Dad. Please, please!" - I say insistently and all my sisters also ask for corn on the cob. Our pleas sound like the sound of bees, so Dad is forced to park the car and buy what we want.

While we are eating, we are calm, but not a few miles have passed, when someone says:

_I'm hot. - and we all start repeating - Yes, it's hot, we're hot. Dad buys a PepsiCola, please. We ask and again Dad has to park and buy drinks to cool us down.

Throughout the trip we crave for everything we see: ice cream, candies, fruits and even rag dolls. Mom also craves: a hat, ornamental plants and even clay figures. Dad also buys for him: a cold beer, cashew seeds and even stickers for the car.

We all laugh and talk: dad takes the opportunity to tell us stories of his childhood and mom takes the opportunity to talk about how we should behave like young ladies. When we come back, we look like toys without batteries: still, almost asleep. I come with my eyes half-open from sleep, my head glued to the window. Dad is behind the wheel, while mom massages his neck. I smile because I see on a sign that says: Welcome to Cumana. Finally, we are home...

The images are from my personal gallery and the text was translated with Deepl

This is my participation this week for our great friend @ericvancewalton's initiative: Memoir monday. If you want to participate, here's the link to the invitation post

Memoir Monday: The small accompaniments

The small accompaniments

The images are from my personal gallery and the text was translated with Deepl

This is my participation this week for our great friend @ericvancewalton's initiative: Memoir monday. If you want to participate, here's the link to the invitation post

Thank you for reading and commenting. Until a future reading, friends