When we were kids we made lots of family trips to Ruidoso and some to Cloudcroft. I've wonder why we named this game "The Bear that Went to Cloudcroft" instead of "The Bear that Went to Ruidoso." But that really doesn't matter and doesn't change the game. It's still lame, but we were little kids and we thought we were extraordinary. It was fun to play especially when you consider the alternative.
Daddy didn't tolerate any fighting, noise or fun! for that matter on these trips. So Patti and Rico and I would sit in the back seat and try to stay out of the way of that huge, hairy, muscular arm that was attached to our dad, that would swing over the front seat occasionally trying to make contact with one of us. We spent most of the trip diving for the floorboard in a frantic attempt to avoid "the arm." Rico was quicker than Patti and I, and he always made it to the safety zone before we could. We would try to make a game out of dodging the arm!
Sometimes it was just Rico and me in the back seat because Patti mostly got to ride in the front with Daddy and Mother because she got carsick all the time! It didn't matter to us that she really was carsick. She would throw up almost everytime we'd get in the car. So between dodging the arm and dodging Patti's stomach contents, the trips were always eventful.
Heaven forbid if we ever asked "Are we there yet?" That statement would activate the arm. So to pass the time, we would play "The Bear that Went to Cloudcroft." The rules of the game were simple. The bear would go to the grocery store to buy food for his trip to Cloudcroft, and each of us would take turns adding imaginary food to the bear's imaginary grocery basket. We had our usual additions. I think Patti always added broccoli, I added olives, and Rico would throw in ice cream. This would go on and on until we couldn't think of anything else to add. Looking back, it seems we only went a couple of rounds or so. I guess we weren't very creative.
We were about as creative as this post. I can't think of anything else to say, so I guess that means I've gone from a lame child to a lame adult and now you, dear reader, have to endure our sad, pathetic lives. Hey Patti, have you wondered lately why we have lost most of our readers? Wait a minute - what am I saying?? PATTI doesn't even read this blog!