I love traveling and seeing the sights. I love going to new places where I can explore new horizons, or just getting on a plane to head back east to visit family. But, in order to do all these things, there’s one thing you’ve got to do that, frankly, I don’t like. Not one bit. And that’s packing.
Packing limits you. Packing forces you to choose which outfit gets to go, and which ones have to stay home and mind the fort. And, I don’t care what they say about traveling light. If you ask me, traveling light is for the birds, and those that are able to do it, it’s because they live spartan lives and have nothing whatsoever to throw in a suitcase.
As for me, I’m of an age when I want to take the comforts of home with me. Not too much, mind you. But taking my bed, pillow and quilt would be good start. Then there’s the comfy green chair I like to sit in when watching TV. Wish I could fold it up into one flat square and fit it into my suitcase.
I’ll never forget flying all the way to Florida for a funeral, and in my grief, leaving my carry-on luggage on the plane. So much for toiletries, makeup, insect repellent, the book I was reading and what-not. My carry-on ended up in Brazil, where I imagine it got to dance the Bossa Nova under the moonlight. Meanwhile my legs remained firmly planted on Floridian soil and were attacked mercilessly by fire ants while sweat poured abundantly from my antiperspirant-free arm pits.
Sigh. My bag and I weren’t reunited until back at home. Which one of us got the better deal? I’ll leave to you to decide.
Actually, if I was like Samantha Montgomery in Bewitched or Jeanie on I Dream of Jeanie, I could just blink or wriggle my nose and transport my entire home to my destination. Voila! No need to worry about packing anymore, thank you very much!
Or maybe I could wish for a tornado, not the violent, deadly kind, but like the one that hit Dorothy Gale’s house in The Wizard of Oz, and it could lift my home and take me where I need to go. I wouldn’t mind landing on a witch as long as she was of the wicked kind, and as long as there were no flying monkeys about, because, jumping Jupiter, those critters are a bit alarming!
And don’t you just hate it when you get to your destination–whether it’s Paris or Cleveland–and you discover you left something important back home? Well, if you had your entire home with you, that would no longer be the case!
Once, when my son was barely three years old, we took a trip across country to visit the rels. I spent weeks packing one suitcase for me and another for my son. What a waste of time. It wasn’t until we landed that we realized in our haste to make it to the airport on time, my son’s suitcase had been inadvertently left at home in the foyer. Yikes!
Now I know what you’re thinking. So what if the kid had to wear the same stinking outfit for the next 10 days. Maybe we could stop at the store and pick him up some jammies, sure. No problem. But, here’s the thing: His favorite baby blanket, otherwise known as, his “babiki” was in his suitcase! That had to be Fed-ex’d to us. STAT. Luckily my neighbor was able to do just that, but imagine how much easier it would’ve been if we’d just brought our entire home with us. I’m just saying.
All this to say, I’m getting ready for a short trip, which will include a fancy dinner at a posh restaurant. Which has me wondering, why do I have to decide now which dress to pack? Why can’t I take them all and wait to see what I feel like wearing on the day of??
And if I do end up packing all my dresses, how do I prevent them from wrinkling? Do I roll each item of clothing into a tiny ball as was once recommended to me, or lay them all flat or just throw them willy-nilly into the suitcase and hope for the best? Decisions, decisions.
And what’s up with most airlines charging us for checked baggage? It’s like having to buy a plane ticket for my suitcase, too. The way I see it, I should at least be entitled to an extra bag of peanuts, the one my suitcase is not going to eat.
So how about you? Where do you stand on the packing issue? Are you a light packer or do you need a minimum of four suitcases for a weekend getaway? Any solutions to this age-old packing dilemma?