It’s like Christmas morning in my world today. Not because a large, bearded man snuck into my house and left crap that makes a lot of noise and requires batteries we never actually have. But because…
FLAT MARTINI is here! And he’s back from his first trip. I’m guessing the little guy is napping right now from his crazy adventure.
Alyson gets a special hats-off for being the first. She didn’t even have time to get Flat Martini in the mail because she wanted to take him on her island vacation so she printed him out herself, gave him a trim & took him on his very first trip. What a trooper!
So without further ado, I’ll pass it off to Alyson Herzig. She’s the blogger and writer behind the utterly hilarious blog called The Shitastrophy.
If you have had a child in school in the last two decades you have probably met Flat Stanley. Stanley is a boy who travels around to near and far locales. His adventures are documented with the help of your lovely little protégé. If you want to witness parents going deep-six on their seven year olds homework this is the pinnacle of helicopter parenting.
The time has come to kick the overdone Stanley to the curb for a new and improved adult version – Flat Martini. I am honored to be the first person to pop his olive. Martini, my son, and I (minus The Hubs – it was so risqué) headed off on a weeklong trip to the island of Dominica in the Caribbean (and no it is NOT the Dominican Republic). Just getting to our final destination required four planes and one overnight layover, but it was worth it.
The Dominica Mountains
Poor Martini was desperate to get out and see the sights after being trapped in my backpack for two days. I tried to enjoy a Mojito with him, but realized in the end I am a true beer lover. He took it well, and accepted there would be no clandestine affair between us on our vacation.
He became more of a wingman, and considering it was Carnival I couldn’t have been any more in the need. Especially that one night I lost my backpack with him in it, oh and my shoes. Thank God security at our hotel found it and gave it to someone in our party – of course it would have been lovely had they called me to let me know, but then I would have had no reason to freak the fuck out at 5 am and search the hotel compound envisioning how I would explain to my husband I needed to cancel my credit card and he should probably wire me some cash.
The whole purpose of the trip to Dominica was to scuba dive in some of the most beautiful water in the world. Here is the village of Soufriere from our boat.
The little dude made quick friends with our dive masters. Here he is with Jim Brown, who came over from St. Thomas to join us on the trip! Jim certified my 11-year-old son and I last year, and no doubt he is still suffering from PTSD after that experience. My kid could send Mother Theresa to the bar, and no doubt Jim would be in desperate need of some Martini’s after a week of diving with us.
Since alcohol and scuba diving are a no-no, I trusted my little partier with our wonderful boat captain Mano while we headed undersea to view the amazing coral reefs and vibrant fish. I’m pretty sure Mano was wishing Martini was real when I asked him to pose for this picture.
It wasn’t all scuba diving while we were there though. The island of Dominica has much to offer the outdoor enthusiast. Our group headed up to Trafalgar Falls and enjoyed a quick hike to the beautiful waterfall, and then a much-needed soak in one of the many hot springs on the island.
I hope you all appreciate that I have included this not so flattering photo of myself sans makeup. I may have cropped the bottom of this pic out to save a little dignity, I’m sure you understand.
On our last day we hiked into the rainforest to visit Meddleham Falls. Luckily we had Monsieur Martin, our Tour Guide, to show us the way. Oh and to keep me from imploding when I had to listen to one person in our group whine about the hike taking more than the posted 45 minutes (psst – that’s because you kept taking breaks because you are out of shape).
As if the adult bitching was not enough I almost lost my shit on my son who insisted on wearing his crocs and then proceeded to complain when he broke his shoes half way into the hike. I would have really loved Flat Martini to be an actual martini at this point, and possibly to have reproduced into a whole bottle of alcohol.
All in all Flat Martini was a wonderful travel companion. He was my trusted wingman at Carnival, enjoyed a lovely adventure when I lost him and my backpack at the hotel, didn’t get sea sick on the boat, and even read the map – which is more than most men would do. Maybe Flat Martini is really a woman?
Thanks Alyson – that was awesome! Stay tuned next week to see where life takes Flat Martini. I have a feeling things are going to be getting a little crazy up in here with the folks I heard he’s visiting next week…
And stop by and visit Alyson’s blog. You can also catch her on Facebook, Twitter, Pinterest & Instagram. Tell her Flat Martini sent ya.
