Growing up in the Midwest, vacations entailed visiting far-flung relatives, or perhaps a weekend at a family friends’ lake house, but in my child-like mind vacation meant staying in a hotel (with a swimming pool, of course) and eating all of our meals at restaurants. No making your bed, no picking up after yourself, no chores, and no cooking. And then there were the restaurants, usually chain restaurants where the food was less than stellar, but that hardly mattered. I could choose whatever I wanted to eat. It was all so glamorous.
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