You'd go wild, right? You'd drink a lot and do crazy things and have the time of your life. Ali and her friends may or may not have gotten wild, but they did do a lot of fun stuff. I got to hear about some of it as I drove them home from Chicago this week.
The best story, in my opinion, is this one:
One night, Ali was puking and wailing into the toilet, "I'm gonna die. I'm gonna die. But I can't die because my parents love me too much."
Cool, right? The comment, not the puking and wailing, which apparently was on repeat for quite a while.
The story came to me just after I'd read and shared on Facebook a post from a teacher who said a lot of things about what it takes to make kids successful. It all boiled down to, "Just love your little ones; it's all they need."
My favorite parenting compliment came from a stranger at a grocery store when I was pushing baby Ali around in a cart and trying to decide from among the various jars of mashed up goo what her upcoming dinners would be.
"Now that child looks loved," the woman said with a huge smile.
I would argue that basics like food and shelter, love and a little bit of structure is all they need. And clearly, Ali's friends had both.
At one point, a guy tried to lure one away from the herd and the tiniest among them stared him down and ended his bid. They held each other up, braved the night to get food when others were hungry but tired, pooled their resources and their knowledge.
They chased pigeons until a couple of older women who were feeding the birds gave them forbidding looks. One came home with a tattoo. They made new friends.
The food swoons were many. After chasing pigeons every time they came across a flock, Ali took a chance to actually eat one on their last night, at a fancy restaurant. "Everyone in the world should be eating pigeon," she proclaimed. They ate liberally off each other's plates at every meal and the others are grateful that Ali introduced them to scallops. The soups! The stews! The bread!In what should shock no one, there was drinking involved. Lots of silly drinking. One night, a tipsy Alison fell off her bed and rolled under it for some reason, trying to hide from her friends. Her size 11s stuck out to give her away -- not that she was in anyway discreet about her escape plan. They were all in the room when she thudded to the ground.
The hilarity continued on the ride home as they recounted the highlights. There were no real low-lights. Even the vomiting (and they ALL vomited at one point or another) took on a high note as they discussed the whens and wheres. You can guess the whys. In some cases it was heaved over the bridge rail into Europe's fastest running river. Other times it was waste cans on the street, and of course, the porcelain thrones.
In between giggles and laughs, they made up songs and chanted "Well, I sure hope it does!" in unison every time a "Road Work Ahead" sign came along and one of them called out "Road work ahead." They devoured snacks from the bag I brought and clamored for O'Charley's. The closest one was in Lafayette, Ind., so the snacks may have saved their lives. (They'd miscalculated their departure time for the Dublin airport and had missed a meal.)
Ali's suitcase was loaded down with clothes that sincerely reeked. Among the clothes were gifts for family and friends. She had sea shells in a sock. For her father, she brought home a beer from Galway, green socks and "Amazing Boxer Shorts" that you drop in water to expand.
For me she brought super cool and soft fur-lined gloves and a kitchen towel with shamrocks all over it. And the gift of four hours getting the scoop on the best, worst, funniest, strangest moments of the trip.
I'm sure I'll never know some of the things that happened in their 14 days away, but I don't need to. They had fun and they came home safe and happy and eager to see their families.
Love is pretty much all we need, too...
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