Lobster for Everyone

Our first holiday away from home was a memorable one. I was twelve and a little too proud of it. My parents optimistically packaged me, my 10-year-old brother, and a week’s worth of luggage into our 89’ Ford Escort and set off for an 18-hour road trip. 18-hours and 28 minutes to be precise. We were going to spend Christmas with my mom’s family on the East Coast of Canada. Now, I know what you’re thinking but the road trip actually went fairly smoothly, My brother’s car sickness only caused a few minor delays and we ate on the road to save time. Mom and Dad took turns driving through the night and 18-hours and 57 minutes later we arrived in Kentville, Nova Scotia.

I slept through most of the first night but I’m told the reunion involved a high stakes card game, the winner of which is still contested to this day. The trip started out pretty normally, my brother and I awkwardly reacquainted with our three cousins, warming up to them after we saw their extensive Nintendo collection. The days were filled with tobogganing, snowball fights, hot chocolate and cookies. In the evenings we were glued to the screen trying to outrace each other while the adults cozied up around the fireplace reminiscing. Their stories getting louder and more outlandish as the wine got emptier.

On Christmas Eve with two days left of the trip the adults decided we were all going out for a fancy dinner followed by a night time sleigh ride. My brother, cousins and I dressed in our Sunday best and our parents packaged into the cars. It was by far the nicest restaurant we had ever been too, table cloths, fancy napkins and over the top center pieces. It could be argued we were far too young for this establishment. A point further emphasized by the other guests looks of apprehension. We ordered an outlandish amount of food, our server maintaining an admirable poker face as my 10-year-old brother ordered a 12oz Filet Mignon.

“Very good.” The server said. “And would anyone like to add lobster?”

All of us smirked a bit and politely shook our heads, we had ordered entirely too much food as it was. All of us except for my dad that is.

“Lobster for everyone.” Dad confidently responded to the exasperation and eyerolls of the other adults.

Even my dad started to realize his mistake as the procession of food began to arrive at our table. The steaks were massive, the sides generous and the lobster unnecessary. But that didn’t stop us from all having some, we were in Nova Scotia after all. Dinner was fantastic, the chef even came out afterwards to meet my brother, in awe of the kid who had finished a steak bigger than his head.

Things started to take a turn on the sleigh ride. The adults, overstuffed decided to wait in the warmth of the main building entrusting us to our sleigh driver, Santa! Dressed in a jolly red suit he piled the five of us kids into the back of the sleigh with fuzzy blankets and cup of cocoa each. The sleigh was beautiful, gently lit with carols cheerfully playing. We lurched forward, the horses trotting at a respectable pace leading us into the woods. I began to feel queasy almost immediately. My cousins soon followed. Ten minutes later Santa had to pull over as all five of us were sick in the woods. Knee deep in snow, Mariah Carey belting in the background and Santa comforting us. It was certainly memorable but all I wanted for Christmas was to feel better. After much cajoling, Santa got us back in the sleigh and took us back to our parents.

Luckily the overly rich lobster had not had the same impact on our parents and they were able to get us all home. Though it took ages since we had to keep pulling over to be sick. It was a rough night and the next day wasn’t much better. My Aunt Louise didn’t meet much resistance when she made the executive decision to put our big dinner off until Boxing Day. So that's how we spent our first Christmas away from home, laying around moaning with nothing more than a few apple slices for dinner. To this day my dad is banned from ordering for the table and I still hear sleigh bells when I see a bottle of Pepto-Bismol.