Read Online Can You Say Catastrophe? by Laurie Friedman - Free Book Online

with a thin mattress on top and a curtain around it. I’m going to try to go to sleep and maybe when I wake up, I’ll find out this whole thing was just a nightmare.
    10:48 A.M.
    I’m awake. I slept one for one lousy hour. But now, on top of being bored and miserable, I’m also nauseous. I asked Dad if we could stop so I could throw up, but he said we have a toilet on board that will work just fine.
    10:54 A.M.
    I forgot to mention that I’m also hot. Dad said there must be a problem with the air conditioning. For once, I agree with my father.
    1:46 P.M.
    We’re now at the campground where we’re parking the Clunker and sleeping for the next three nights while we’re in St. Augustine, Florida. Dad said, “We’ve arrived at Florida’s finest.” June seemed to like those words because she’s been repeating them nonstop ever since he said them. She said it sounds like a tongue twister and she wanted to see how many times she could say, “We’ve arrived at Florida’s finest.” May said they should make it a challenge to see who could say it more times, so they’ve been continuously repeating what Dad said ever since we got here. Mom just looked at me and said I should join in the fun.
    I told Mom I’d be happy to do that if there was anything here that looked like fun.
    She replied that I need to work on my attitude.
    4:25 P.M.
A crappy situation
    I wish there was a ladylike way to say what I’m about to say, but there’s not. So here goes: Dad spent the afternoon getting rid of the pee and poop in our RV.
    It sounds just as gross as it is. First Dad had to find the “disposal site” where he could put our “waste products.” I told May and June that was just a fancy name for a hole in the ground where you put your crap. June kept asking Dad if he’d found the hole in the ground for the crap. Dad got mad at me for teaching June the word crap. He also got sweaty because it took him a long time to find the hole and it was really hot outside.
    I tried to suggest to Dad that he should come inside the RV and cool down. But then I reminded him that our air conditioner wasn’t working so that wasn’t really an option. Dad didn’t seem to appreciate that reminder. He said he could only deal with one RV issue at a time.
    Anyway, once Dad found the hole, he put on these thick rubber gloves. They made him look like an unlicensed dentist or a child molester, and I told him so, but he said he didn’t want to hear another word from me. Then he started mumbling some weird stuff about needing to find the sewer hose compartment. I thought I was hearing things.
    Who goes on vacation looking for a sewer hose compartment?
    Once Dad found the compartment, he took a hose out of our camper and stuck it in the hole in the ground. Then he opened up some sort of flap and all the pee and poop from our camper started going through the hose and into the hole. Dad stood there holding the hose in his gloved hands saying how he had to do this until it fully drained.
    That’s an image I didn’t need. No one wants to see their dad with his hands around a sewage hose waiting for it to drain.
    And it gets worse. When Dad was done, he washed off his gloves and said he was saving them for next time. I’m horribly grossed out. I’m also completely unclear as to why my parents thought this trip would bring me closer to my family.
    I’ve never wanted to get farther away!
    Sunday morning, June 30, 8:45 A.M.
    Going to Florida is every kid’s dream, but to be honest, I don’t get the attraction. For the past two days, all we’ve done is look at old stuff in St. Augustine, which Mom says is the oldest city in America. We saw an old school. An old house. An old fort. An old museum. An old jail. An old cemetery. They even have people here who dress up in old clothes to make you feel like you’re taking a trip back in