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| C'mon dad, just dress me up like drugs and they will never know. |
I forgot to write about the worst part about my bout with the chicken pox.
I was planning to go with my dad to Mexico about ten days after I got the chicken pox so that was the other reason I wanted to speed up my healing. This was back in the easy days of air travel when you could change your ticket of the name on a ticket with little hassle. My dad decided a few days before the trip that it was not going to work out for me to go. He was worried about a kid who looked as sick as me being turned back at the border.
He changed the ticket over to my little brother Matt. I knew it wasn't my dad's fault or much less Matt's fault but I was still mad that they were getting to go and I was not. I had my poopy-pants on for a couple of days and remember giving a pillow a few impotent teen rage punches as I rage cried myself to sleep that night. I was a little standoffish because I felt like they stole my trip from me.
When they were gone I missed them because my brother was my best friend and I am not good at holding grudges anyway.
