On the second day, the increasingly annoying drizzle caused the family to seek refuge in a Hard Rock Cafe. Since it also happened to be lunch time, we decided to sit down. Menus in hand, we started to discuss our options. We were all leaning towards getting a burger but since it's rather boring to all get the same thing, my mother suggested that someone get the quesadilla. My dad and I assumed that she was volunteering herself so we stuck with our choices.
This did not sit well with my mother. She didn't want to be the one with a different order. Note: My family shares so ultimately, it doesn't matter. After way too much time passed about a stupid quesadilla, through gritted teeth, I proposed that she just get whatever she wanted. My dad ended up getting the ever so popular Mexican delight. You would think that, that would be the end of it. Oh no.
When the splitting of the dishes began and my mother's portion was being passed to her, she refused it. "I don't want any of that," she declares, turning her nose up at the tortilla sandwich. And that started the 3 hours of silent treatment... Family vacations, ruining FUN since before the first migration.
Side note: the quesadilla was voted the yummiest out of all. Figures
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