Mei's Vakantie

Our vacation has been on my mind for weeks. Whether it's wise. Whether it really has to happen. Whether we should just stay in the Netherlands. Those thoughts are interspersed with the ‘what if?’ question. ‘What if Italy goes into lockdown?’ is the most important one.

Still, we want to go. The weather from last week plays a part in that. Moreover, we are two workaholics and a physically negligible distance between our vacation spot and the office is not really a plus for a healthy detox period. Also, our work in Italy awaits us (workaholics, I said it) and friends, and darn it, how I long for the Mare Adriatico. So we are going. On Friday, I quickly pick up a new ID and passport for my daughter at the town hall and on Saturday, I start making piles of everything that needs to go. In the meantime, I anxiously scan the corona news reports. I don't dare to really look forward to the vacation like I usually do. It feels like being in love with that boy from the sixth grade without knowing what he thinks of you. You hold it in, afraid of being hurt and disappointed.

When Sunday comes, it seems to be happening after all. My love checks us in and a confirmation from KLM follows. With information. We need to print a form stating the purpose of the trip (okay, pressure, would ‘just having a vacation’ count as a valid reason?) and in passing, we are told that all children over six years old must wear a mask. Okay. I swallow, sigh, and take a breath.

Flying with a girl with autism is never a party anyway. But now there's an extra handicap of a mask. ‘She is never going to do that,’ says my middle daughter and my partner in crime when it comes to dealing with these kinds of issues. Followed by: ‘We need to come up with a plan, mom.’

I start laying out the masks. And we say that anyone wearing a mask will get gifts on the plane. ‘And packages?’ asks my girl. ‘And packages!’ My middle daughter and I couldn't nod harder.

We immediately drive to the gas station (the ‘tank pump store,’ as Flo calls it) and let her choose two stuffed animals. ‘I'm putting on my mask.’ She actually seems to find it cool.

My middle daughter and I exchange a wink. We are nervous, but have good hope.

Now let's hope we have nice and understanding flight attendants on board.