August 5, 2026–As the kiddos head back to school, they will face that deep and timeless question asked for decades by every classroom teacher: What did you do this summer?
For most of those kids, there is a high probability they went on a family vacation.
I contemplated the phenomenon of “summer vacation” while observing tourists in nearby town (not that town).
It was a mom and dad, with three kids and a set of grandparents, all ordering and eating hamburgers at an outdoor restaurant.
Simply stated, they all looked miserable.
Dad was sitting off to the side, with a thousand-yard stare, wondering how much this was costing him and wishing he could be following his favorite World Cup team.
Two teens were sulking in the corner, texting friends how lame this town was.
A very busy toddler was busy rolling in the gravel, crawling up the backs of chairs, and jumping on the bench in the booth. Then there was Mom, blowing hair out of her face and determined to make this fun so she can post about it on her Insta account. Finally, there was grandma, looking for a place to pee, and grandpa, looking for a place to sit.
The scenario reminded me that going on most vacations means going places you don’t want to be, eating food you don’t want to eat, and seeing sights you don’t want to see. With the whole family staying in one room, sharing beds, using one bathroom, and not being able to escape the “This Old House” marathon on the 8-foot-wide TV.
A vacation might be more enjoyable if each family member took turns and went off by themselves for a week. Think about it. You could go where you wanted, rather than taking an antiquing jaunt through the Ozarks or visiting another museum filled with things nobody wanted to keep in their own house. You could eat at any restaurant you desired, not worrying if they had a kids’ menu or cruelty-free options. Or you could just order in a pizza, without someone picking off toppings.
You could stay up as late as you liked, and sleep in as long as you dared. There would be no waiting for potty breaks, changing outfits three times, or vacuuming sand out of car seats.
Another option would be to send the family on vacation while you stayed home. Same scenario as above, only you would already know where the lumps in the mattress were.
Yes, I realize I am being a curmudgeon. That has almost become my Vision Statement. But I am apparently not alone. This line of thought was triggered by seeing similar sentiments from fellow (non)travelers.
One gentleman posted: “I can’t stomach any more of these ‘I’ve traveled to 51 countries’ types. Travel is consumptive. You are a consumer.”
He was not saying “don’t travel.” He was saying since it’s consumptive in nature, it’s not something to flaunt, because it’s basically as impressive as watching TV.
He went on to explain that being creative is more impressive than checking off a bucket list. “Cooking, making music, art, writing, building apps, metal working, creating video content, and so on, are all more impressive than travel, because you made something that did not exist before.”
Of course this opinion sparked the usual firestorm of accusatory back and forth:
“Yes, excuse me for traveling the world and consuming unlimited fun while you create endless corporate slop…”
Which sparked this retort: “What did you learn about other cultures by spending a week in a Cabo San Lucas?”
All I’m saying is, kids, don’t be impressed by every other student’s amazing summer vacation story. It might just be a story.