Why I’ll Never Travel With My Mom Again (Part. 2)

My Mom, Who Opposes Every Single Decision I Make

Let’s start with a few basic facts so you can understand just how ridiculous this all is.

My mom’s cognitive and logical abilities? Absolutely on point. She’s a corporate executive, successful career, and even though she’s retired, they rehired her—still working, still fully plugged into society. She doesn’t need family validation.

Me? I’ve traveled to multiple countries solo. Don’t speak the language? Don’t have data? No problem—I just use gestures and free-wheeled it. I’ve also taken friends on trips to several places (all the planning? Yep, all me). Booking a domestic trip? Kid’s play for me.

But, there was this one time I took her and her father (my grandpa) to the beach. My grandpa, in his 80s, is in great shape and has a good temperament. Most of the time, he just does whatever I say.

Before we left, my mom said she didn’t want to deal with the itinerary—she trusts me. I knew exactly how she is, so I made it clear: “I’ll handle everything. I’ll let you know which sights we’re visiting. You just show up and have fun. No opinions, okay?”

She agreed.

Big mistake. I should’ve known better.

So, we were headed to a mountain spot with tons of amusement park rides—kind of thrilling stuff. Now, my grandpa was in his 80s, and even though he was healthy, the staff wouldn’t let him on these rides. I explained this to my mom. I told her, “We’ll just walk around the mountain, not worth it to do the rides if Grandpa can’t join in.”

She still insisted on going. I repeated it a couple of times. She was sure, though, so I booked it.

The day of the trip, before we leave, I checked with her again: “You’re sure about this? Grandpa can’t do the rides. Do you want to change the plan to go to the beach or somewhere else?” She insisted on going.

We got there, and we were walking toward the entrance. Suddenly, my mom wrinkled her brow, looked at me, and started pointing. “You’re going the wrong way! What are you doing? Is this the right way?!”

I calmly said, “No, it’s this way,” and she just kept repeating, “You’re going the wrong way! You’re going the wrong way!”

I said, “Fine, if I’m going the wrong way, you lead the way.” So, she started wandering around aimlessly—no map, no navigation, just totally winging it—and starts complaining: “What’s the point of bringing you here?” “What’s the point?!”

We stood there, awkwardly, for a bit. Finally, I took charge and got us to the entrance.

As we got closer, she said, “See? I told you, you went the wrong way from the beginning.”

I said, “No, this is the way I went.”

She just kept on with repeating, “You went the wrong way! You went the wrong way!”

I ignored her, and we went in.

We walked through and see some signs about the park’s attractions, and she immediately started grumbling. “Grandpa can’t do anything here, this place is pointless! Why are all the rides like this? What are we even doing here?”

She sighed and complained the whole time. We queued for something, and she sighed some more.

I said, “Before we left, I told you about this.”

She said, “I didn’t hear you.”

I said, “I said it at least three times.”

She said, “I don’t remember.”

I said, “I reminded you this morning.”

She said, “I forgot.”

Communication? Totally pointless. So we just kind of made the best of it and left.

A Taxi to the Beach

One time we took a taxi to the beach. On the way, my mom noticed a harbor with lots of little speedboats and insisted on checking it out. I told her, “It’s about a kilometer or so to the beach, and it’ll take a while. How about we just head straight to the beach?”

She still wanted to see the boats. So, I told her again, “It’s going to take a while to walk, are you sure you want to stop here?” She insisted.

We got there, and she started complaining immediately: “What is this place? There’s no beach here! How far is the beach?”

I repeated, “I told you, it’s a bit of a walk. The beach is still a kilometer away, I mentioned this.”

She was like, “I don’t know, I didn’t hear you, I forgot.”

Typical.

So, I just ignored her and started walking.

Then, she starts pointing at the road signs, not looking at any directions, not checking her navigation, completely clueless about where we are. “You’re going the wrong way! You’re going the wrong way!”

I just kept walking, pretending I didn’t hear her.

She kept up the “You’re going the wrong way!” and started sighing, getting annoyed.

So, I slacked off and said, “Okay, fine. Since I’m wrong, you lead the way. Show us.”

She starts looking at her phone but still doesn’t know where we are. She’s getting more frustrated and sighing: “What’s the point of bringing you out here?”

Eventually, she just kept walking in circles with my grandfather. I refused to lead anymore, so I just let her take the reins.

My grandfather, fed up, finally said, “What’s the point of bringing you here?”

I said, “Yeah, I don’t know. All I’m doing is walking down the wrong path.”

Mom kept dragging Grandpa in circles, still not finding a taxi.

I pulled out my phone and played around for a bit, then decided to leave them to it. I walked ahead, and after a while, I realized they were secretly following me. They trailed behind until we finally got to the beach.

Still on the Same Day…

After watching the sunset and having dinner, it was late, and it was impossible to catch a cab. There were hundreds of people in line, but the line wasn’t moving. I suggested we take the bus back to the hotel. “I’ll show you where the bus stop is,” I said.

I pulled up the map, and the volume was loud enough for all three of us to hear.

On our way to the bus stop, my mom started up again: “You’re going the wrong way!”

Then she shouted over and over again: “You’re going the wrong way!” “It’s not this road!”

I asked her, “Do you even know the name of the bus stop?”

She replied, “I forgot.”

“Where are we right now?”

“I don’t know!”

“How do we get to the bus stop?”

“How would I know?”

“Did you see on the map that we’re going the wrong way?”

She snapped, “What’s the point of bringing you out here?”

I sighed, “No point, I guess. You take over.”

Fine, I gave up and sat on the side of the road to play a mobile game. I saw the last bus go by, but I didn’t say anything.

My mom wandered around looking for a cab but couldn’t find one. She came over to ask about the bus again.

I pointed in the direction of the bus stop, but I just told her, “The last bus is gone.”

She was furious and started scolding me, asking why I didn’t tell them to catch the bus. I kept playing my game and said, “Because I’m always wrong about the itinerary. I didn’t want to make you get on the wrong bus.”

She kept on yelling at me.

I played the game for an hour, and my mom dragged Grandpa around the streets. She wouldn’t stop nagging: “Why are you just sitting there? Get up and find a cab!” “What’s the point of bringing you out here?!” “What’s your plan?!”

Because Grandpa’s getting old, though, and even though he’s still in better shape than me, I eventually called a car service to take us back to the hotel.

Mom couldn’t find any taxis, so she came back and scolded me some more, saying, “It’s your fault we went the wrong way!”

I said, “… Okay.”

I canceled the taxi service.

My mom kept throwing a tantrum by the roadside for about an hour and a half. Grandpa even suggested walking back, but eventually, she stopped a passing car and paid the driver to take us back to the hotel.

Looking For Dinner: A New Level of Drama

We went to dinner, and before we left, I found a restaurant with good food and a good location. My mom picked it.

We walked out of the hotel, and we weren’t even a street away when she started: “You’re going the wrong way!” “We’re not supposed to go this way!”

I said, “You lead the way, please.”

She couldn’t find the place, and started ranting again.

She asked, “What’s the name of the restaurant?”

I responded, imitating her: “You picked it, I forgot.”

She asked, “Then how did you check the map earlier?”

“I forgot.”

She snapped again, “What’s the point of bringing you out here?!”

I sighed, “I don’t know.”

She kept getting angrier and scolding me.

By this point, even Grandpa had had enough and started yelling at me too.

Eventually, she led us to a random restaurant, but when we got there, she checked the menu outside, and it was too expensive and didn’t seem worth it. She still wanted to go back to the first place we tried.

But she couldn’t find her way back, so the tantrum continued.

(Along the way, she asked for directions a few times, but never got a clear answer.)

She kept on complaining: “Why don’t you handle anything? Are you trying to get me and Grandpa killed out here? What’s your point? What’s the use of raising you?”

I just kept sitting on the curb playing mobile games.

Honestly, my expectations for this trip were just sunbathing and strolling on the beach. Wherever I did that was fine with me.

She kept berating me, furious.

Finally, we ate some really bad food. On the way to the next spot, I led them to pass the first restaurant we’d looked at. My mom went ballistic.

The Daily ‘Wrong Way’ Routine

From then on, every day seemed to be filled with her insistently telling me I was going the wrong way.

The more she did it, the more I just gave up. I’d sit there and do nothing, and she would end up not going anywhere.

We’d often stand in the street, just stuck, both of us looking clueless.

She’d forget where we were going, not check the map, and never study the travel plans, but still, she’d keep insisting, “You’re going the wrong way!”

So, I gave up. Time for game mode.

And What Was My Dad Doing During This?

Every morning, my dad would transfer me some “work injury compensation,” and when I started complaining like crazy, he’d transfer me a little extra pocket money to calm me down.

No wonder he didn’t come on this trip…

A Little More Background…

From the limited interactions I’ve had with her colleagues and superiors, she’s not like this at work. She doesn’t become an argumentative know-it-all when she’s with other people.

But with me? She loves to oppose everything I do.

There was this time when our family dog broke a bone.

She’s crazy about the dog and always makes him special meals and takes him out every day, as long as she’s not too busy.

After my dog broke his bone, I took him to get X-rays. It was obvious—the bone was broken and out of place. The doctor recommends surgery for the dog. She refused to believe it, so we went to a different hospital to get another X-ray, and it was still a fracture.

But because I insisted on getting surgery for the dog, just to spite me, she refused to accept it and said the bone wasn’t broken. She even drove to another place to find a vet who would tell her the dog wasn’t fractured. (The vet didn’t even do an exam, just felt the dog’s leg and said, “No fracture.”)

Crazy? Ah? That’s my mom.