While at my mom’s house for Thanksgiving, I got a chance to look through a bag of travel mementos that she’d set aside for me. Inside were stickers, pamphlets, receipts and ticket stubs from her travels over the years.
My eyes zeroed right in on a South of the Border bumper sticker in the stack. I knew I was there as a kid but haven’t really been able to place the exact time. Now, thanks to my mom’s olde tyme blogging on the back of an envelope – I know. July 18, 1988. I was 14.
Apparently we actually stayed over at a motel there. I wish I could jog my memory for any dusty recollection of this. I don’t remember going up in the sombrero tower or seeing any of the fiberglass figures around. Other than a dim memory of perusing some fireworks in a store, I’ve got nothing.
My mom scribbled down the toll rates, mileage, times, dates… I guess the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.
I have been talking to my daughter Chloe about going to South of the Border. I’m not even really sure why. I just want to. She seems to be all in on taking the trip. Maybe it’s a rite of passage in the Fuzzmop family
Side note: “Vargina”? Really, Mom?