Mark’s checked off just two items on his list before Marci commences meltdown. As always, he pretends to sympathize while secretly resenting Meg. She takes after you, his sullen mantra.
Meg is busy running through her own list. They’d slept the night before with the lights on. They’d FedExed Marci’s special food box directly to the hotel. Marci had the Trader Joe’s Honey Grahams and chunky Jif sandwiches, the Happy Cow vanilla soy milk.
Marci screeches and wails, flailing arms and legs, spittle flying while her parents hover and other tourists look on, clucking and whispering and shaking their heads.