I don’t quite remember how old I was. Maybe 10 or 11? I was young; young enough to still wear Hello Kitty t-shirts with sequins on it, but old enough to remember every lasting detail of that trip to Hawaii.
It was winter break, my parents were still together, my older sister Sydney and I were too young to have the problems we have had, and we were celebrating our time off of school in paradise. It rained everyday.
Two fun facts about the island Kauai: the rain is relentless, and wild chickens roam freely everywhere you go. So one day when the rain had subsided, it was still too gloomy out to sit by the water. My family decided to go to the outdoor mall close to the hotel instead of relaxing by the pool. I was pretty excited to go shopping; I mean, what little girl wouldn’t be?
When we got to the mall, we walked around, went from shop to shop, and prayed that it didn’t rain. We stopped outside for a reason I can’t remember. My dad probably bought another useless thing he put in the back of his closet and still doesn’t remember he has. Maybe another toy helicopter? Or even maybe another ridiculously expensive watch he only wore once. I was standing outside, playing on my pink Nintendo DS, because I didn’t go anywhere without it. I had stopped playing when I saw my dad walk outside, and a few chickens had come pretty close to me. I am going to say this only once, but, I swear on my life, that I did not kick that chicken, I only just shooed it away.
“Did you just kick that chicken?” My dad looked at me as if he had a bad taste in his mouth. His balding head turned red when he was angry, and I saw those crimson shades come through right away.
“No. I swear I didn’t. I just kicked at it.” I remember my face turning red. It was a different red than my dad’s head, though, it was more scarlet. My mom and my sister were laughing so hard; they might have even fallen over. Tears were rolling down their faces, and their shoulders were bouncing because the laughter was neverending. I looked back at my dad, and he now couldn’t hold back his laughter. His crimson red head turned into a rosy red from all of his laughing.
“You totally just kicked the chicken. Chicken Kicker.” There it was, a term I will forever be known as in my family.
“Dad, no I didn’t kick it.” At this point, tears were already rushing down my face.
“Chicken Kicker, Chicken Kicker!” my sister kept repeating and pointing. My mom couldn’t even talk she was laughing so hard, and my dad was wiping the tears away from his eyes because he as well was laughing harder than I had ever seen him laugh.
The rest of our vacation involved a lot of tears on my end. They bought me chicken dolls, chicken pens; and then there was Maui.
We had left Kauai in hopes of less rain. When we arrived in Maui there was sunshine, but the second our taxi reached the hotel, the rain started again. One night we went to yet another outdoor mall. My parents told Sydney and I to go buy some souvenirs for our friends while they went into this art store right next door. So my sister and I went. We probably bickered about stupid key chains and rings, but those fights were nothing like what we deal with nowadays. Not too much time had passed when my dad walked back in.
“Ladies, come with me. I have a surprise for you, Jordyn.”
I was so excited. I loved presents, and my dad has a reputation of giving the best gifts possible. He led us towards a Lids store, and I got super confused. I don’t wear hats. I have never worn a hat in my entire life.
“Right here Jordyn, we found a special hat just for you.” I look over to the worker in the store. The smile plastered on his face was so wide, his skin looked like it was just about to rip in half. It took me a few moments to actually comprehend what was going on. I heard the teenaged- girly laughter coming from my mom and sister yet again, and then it clicked. The hat said “Chicken Kicker” big and bold. I took one look at it before I ran out of the store, and you can probably guess what I was doing. Yah, I was crying.
I still have that hat; I look at it sometimes and remember how easily I got upset.
I am still like that today. I cry a lot. Crying is the best way for me to express all emotions: Happiness, sadness, frustration, you name it and I’ll cry. I cried more on that family vacation than any other one we went on before my family was broken into two.
Now I am able to look back and laugh. But that laughter took me many years to achieve. I remember thinking I would burn the hat, or throw it out, or leave it somewhere, but now that hat is a memory and a reminder of how strange my family is; it’s a reminder that there were good times where everyone was happy before things went downhill. I know now that everything happens for a reason, and years after my parents’ divorce, I have finally come to terms with the fact that it is better this way. I now can think about the time when I didn’t kick the chicken, dust off my Chicken Kicker hat, take a selfie, think about crying, and laugh instead.
