...and that's how she found out

“Well… based on the directions Santa left on Christmas morning - we’re only about 2 miles from the house he got us for the weekend. Who’s excited?”

“I am!!!”

“Me!”

“I’m the most excited!”

“I’m excited to be outta this damn car.”

“DDDaddd!!”

“Well, in dad’s defense – it has been a long day for him. We all got in a good nap while he drove us to the airport this morning. But, with that being said, he could be a little more gracious… ya know… since Santa planned all of this for us and since his 3 children are within earshot.”

“Sorry, my bad… yes! I’m very excited too.”

“Ohhh that looks like it – up there on the left. Ok, it says there will be a keyless entry. I’m pretty sure I saw the code in the family poem he wrote… mmmm ah yes, ‘a wonderful trip for a family that’s great; open the door with code four-zero-four-eight.’ Maybe while I open the door… you guys could grab your bags and what not. And it’s so late, don’t worry about bringing in the stuff we just bought – except of course the new shoes for Cal… I can’t believe you left your good sneakers at home and wore those. I should’ve checked what you had on before we left when I was checking everything else you packed. I don’t know if I was more embarrassed by them or impressed that they didn’t disintegrate when the captain pressurized the cabin.”

“They aren’t that bad, mo… mmm, I guess they’re pretty bad.”

“Can you get the door open? After all that driving I need to use the restroom!”

“Yep… hey! I thought you guys were gonna get your stuff?”

“I think we should pick out our rooms first, so we know where to take our stuff.”

“That’s that first-born mentality – good thinking, doll. I’ll read over this booklet with the rules of the house while you guys get your stuff. And be quiet – it’s late! See! it says right here ‘Please be courteous of your neighbors, this is a residential neighborhood with real people who have real jobs’.”

“I’m taking the pink room with ballerinas!!!”

“I’ll take the blue beach room.”

“Mine has baseball stuff in it. It’s cool… we’ll be back with everything, mom.”

“Ok, thank you but lower your voice!”

“I’ll make sure they’re quiet, momma.”

“Oldest daughters… make the world go ‘round… you’ll be unstoppable once you hit your teens! HEY! Be quiet you two! I can hear you from in here so I know the neighbors can hear you.”

“Well Cal won’t let me carry his new shoes in.”

“Abby! They’re mine. I’m carrying them.”

“Be QUIET! Stop fighting. Get your stuff and get in here.”

“They’re still out there fighting over those shoes, mom.”

“Abigail. SHUSH. NOWWWWW.”

“Well Calvin is a jerk…”

“SHUT. UP. It is late and you are disturbing people.”

“I just wanted to carry…”

“ABIGAIL. STOP. NOW.”

“Calvin gets to do…”

“Get in this God damned house, NOWWWWWWWWWW. Get to your rooms. NOW. ALL OF YOU.”

“Owwwwwww. My leg scraped that brick when you pulled me. Owwwww. I’m bleeding.”

“What’s going on out here?”

“Nothing. Nothing at all… and as usual you were completely unavailable while NOTHING was happening. I’ve spent the last 12 years parenting while you are in the fucking bathroom. Get out here – everybody. Now!”

“My leg is still bleeding.”

“Here, hold this on the cut… I’m sorry that you cut your leg when I pulled you into the house…”

“I was in the bathroom for 5 minutes. I’m not sure what the hell went on but I can’t help that I have to go to the bathroom.”

“It just always seems that you are nowhere to be found when the shit hits the fan. When I die, I want to come back as a husband. Ok. Everybody sit down while I fill your father in on what just happened. I asked the kids to get their stuff, and I asked them to do it quietly. I was reading the house rules, and they specifically said to be quiet because this is a residential neighborhood. The next thing I know – these 2 are out there yelling at each other. Alex was doing her best to quiet them, but they continued arguing over – of all things – who would carry in Cal’s new shoes. I repeatedly asked them to quiet down but Abby continued to shout and argue…”

“Over carrying in shoes? You guys are somethin’, huh?”

“I’m sorry, mom. I should’ve just let her carry them…”

“Well, I do have to wonder why you didn’t just let her. But at the same time – Abby, they are your brother’s shoes. Why would you fight with him about carrying his own shoes? That’s still bleeding, huh? Do you think you could get her a wet paper towel, or do you have to use the bathroom, again?”

“Yes. I will get the paper towel. You don’t have to be an asshole about it.”

“How did you even get the cut on your leg, Abby?”

“Those steps are high and when you pulled me into the house this leg didn’t have time to get up so my shin scraped the brick.”

“Well… I’m very sorry about that but you wouldn’t stop shouting and it’s after midnight and the neighbors have to get up for work tomorrow. I repeatedly asked you to stop being so loud…”

“Abigail, if you would’ve listened to your mother none of this would’ve happened.”

“Every year. Every damn year on these trips you do something to ruin it. You complain, you fight with your brother and sister. Every year. And every year I keep planning – hoping that you won’t act like this. I put so much time and effort into creating trips for us to enjoy as a family…”

“YOU planned this? I thought Santa sent us on these trips?”

“No Abigail. There is no Santa. It’s just me and your dad. And you act like a spoiled, ungrateful child every.single.year.”

“Santa isn’t real??????”