Posers

Tourist.  For some reason that word has a negative connotation that travelers want to avoid.  It sounds so amateur and almost ill-intentioned.  Sometimes while at a popular destination, if the crowds are a little larger than my liking, I find myself scorning tourists privately in my head, which of course is ironic, but I can get away with those thoughts (to myself) because in that moment I’m engaging in the art of posing.  I’m not really a tourist, I’m a traveler.

We do a lot of posing while traveling, whether purposeful or not.  This week I’ve been posing as a comfortable Irish driver, perched behind the steering wheel on the right, using that steering wheel to keep the car on the left, and learning not to flinch/duck/yell and dive into the bushes as our car whizzes by oncoming traffic with mere inches to spare.  After a particularly harrowing section where my pride is bursting from not slamming on the brakes or flinching too hard, I like to tell my kids I’ve gone full Irish.

I also pose as if I understand what people are saying to me, even if their accents are too much for me. This gentleman let us all hold his lamb (Mary) and then I tried not to act surprised when he sought his payment afterwards.  Of course I knew we would have to pay for this experience!  Anya later filled me in that he said right at the beginning there would be a charge.

For all my posing, though, there is a group of boys who take the art of posing to creative new heights. This post is dedicated to my children, the greatest posers I know.