Teenagers are spiteful little things, to be sure. Trust me, I know. We adore seeing our parents go through trouble after all they put us through. That’s why, on one extremely hot day, I was grinning maliciously at my dad. One half expected me to grow a pair of horns and a tail. Now, why was I grinning so evilly, you ask? Easy. It was a hot day, as I already pointed out. I was wearing typical summer attire: a t-shirt and jeans. My dad, on the other hand, was garbed in apparel which consisted of a thick sweater and some pants.
What madness was this? What kind of fool would wear warm clothes in a boiling summer? Well, simple answer: a misinformed one.
See, my dad and I had gone to go and visit Scotland. Scotland is normally a very cold place, so my dear nana, bless her kind heart, had advised us to pack a plethora of warm clothes lest we freeze to death. Good advice, right? After all, there are just some places in the world which just refuse to heat up, no matter what the season is.
The problem with this was that we only had prepacked clothes to use. We were in England before we visited Scotland. Now, it was a little cold there, but nothing too bad, and all I had packed beforehand were a few long sleeved shirts. My suitcase mostly consisted of, you guess it, t-shirts and jeans. Teenagers are a lazy species, what can I say.
As you can guess, my dad’s luggage was the opposite.
Without a doubt, it was terrible of me to be so smug as we wandered around the town which was near Loch Ness. Definitely. I undoubtedly snickered at some point when my dad had to buy a t-shirt from a local shop. If you’re starting to feel bad for my poor father, let me assure you that you have nothing to worry about; he got his revenge.
Another explanation is in order. Over in Scotland, we weren’t going to stay in some hotel. Months before, my dad had found a lovely bed and breakfast called Evergreen. It has a spectacular view of the Loch, especially in the mornings, when you could watch the fog float over the ground. I recommend it, I really do.
Well, I recommend it as long as you can handle the twelve mile long uphill hike you’ll be forced to take.
Oh, we could have taken a rent car to get there, but that’s no fun, my dad figured. It just looked like a long way on the map! We’d be there in no time. Needless to say, it took a long time indeed, and we hadn’t even gotten halfway when I came to a decision; it could be summed up as “Bugger all of this, I’m going to flag down a bloody car.” Even I’ll admit it wasn’t exactly eloquent, but I was exhausted. Dad, being too energetic for his own good (possibly at viewing my own misfortune), didn’t have a care in the world.
Eventually, I did manage to, in fact, flag down a car, I’ll have you know. The driver was a speed freak, the roads twisty, and I’m sure I threw up at some point… Yet we made it to our bed and breakfast. We really did have a good time at Loch Ness. Nessie was never spotted, but we did find grotesque black slugs that were longer than our hands. Altogether, despite the numerous problems, it was a nice trip.
That doesn’t mean I won’t complain if we ever have to go through that again.
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