A father-son trip full of sunshine, surf, and just enough chaos to keep it interesting.

Some vacations are all about relaxation. Ours was about testing the limits of patience, horsepower, and my ability to keep hold of a water bottle in public. Over the course of a week in San Diego, my son and I enjoyed perfect weather, stunning beaches, and unforgettable food — all while surviving airport drama, rental car roulette, and a finale that involved ghosts on the interstate.

Here’s how it went down…

Part 1: The Epic Journey West
My son and I started our adventure with a flight from Charleston to Atlanta, where I decided to become the moving sidewalk entertainment. My water bottle made multiple breakaway runs down the belt, startling everyone within a 20-foot radius. If there’s an Olympic sport for “Airport Object Fumble,” I’d have at least made the finals.

The cross-country flight to San Diego was long, but landing in a time zone three hours behind made it feel like we’d gained a bonus day. Nothing like waking up in South Carolina and still making it to California in time for lunch.

Part 2: The Rental Car Hunger Games
As soon as we got off the plane, we saw people casually strolling onto the car rental shuttle. Security promptly yelled at us to get in line — behind 50 other people. I asked, “What about the eight people who just walked on? Sounds like you need to tighten your security.”

Part 3: The Payless Powerless Experience
At Payless Car Rental (spoiler alert: don’t), I had booked a “Manager’s Special,” which promised a Chrysler 300 or similar. Instead, we got a Mitsubishi Mirage — a 3-cylinder lawnmower disguised as a car, with a whopping 75 horsepower. I paid the same price.

We did agree to pay for a full tank at $4 per gallon (local rate: $4.79). Great deal. Except when we drove away, we noticed full-size cars just sitting in the lot like sad, neglected orphans.

Part 4: The Calm Before the Comedy Storm
We checked into our hotel after stopping at Nico’s for an authentic California burrito — a culinary masterpiece that could solve most international conflicts. Then we strolled along Ocean Beach, watching surfers compete like they were auditioning for a soda commercial. We stocked up on snacks for the week. It was bliss.

Part 5: Beaches, Baseball, and the Otey Jinx
The next day we hit La Jolla Beach. My son skimboarded, I took photos and videos, and the weather was perfect. Then we went to Petco Park to watch the Padres take on the Mets. The Mets were on an eight-game winning streak. I showed up, and they promptly lost — and then went on to lose six more games after that. You’re welcome, Padres fans.

Part 6: Lions, Tigers, and Double-Doubles
We followed up with the San Diego Zoo (world-class, by the way) and then my very first In-N-Out Burger experience — a glorious double-double tray. We checked into our flight home, returned to the hotel after watching the sun set into the Pacific Ocean at Carlsbad Beach, and went to bed feeling like travel champions.

Part 7: Tsunami, Traffic, and Total Travel Taxation
Departure day started with a cheery news update: a Russian earthquake had triggered a possible tsunami for the West Coast. This delayed our flight just enough for us to miss our connection to Charleston.

Then, while packing the car, my key slipped into the seat and the door closed, locking it inside. The locksmith took 45 minutes to arrive, 30 seconds to open the door, and charged me $165 for the privilege (after quoting me $80).

We still aimed for one last In-N-Out double-double, but got stuck in apocalyptic traffic. That 30-minute delay meant we returned the Mirage late — and got hit with a $15 fee.

Part 8: The Great Delta Debacle
At the San Diego airport, I called Delta to get a refund for the final leg to Charleston and to book a rental car for the ATL-to-home drive. They said “No problem, we’ll reimburse you because of the delay.”

Except when it was time to board… Delta had canceled my entire trip. My comfy aisle seat? Gone. I was rebooked into a middle seat for the four-hour flight back to Atlanta.

When we landed in ATL, we had to wait out a fire delay on the airport shuttle before even getting to the rental car place. I asked for the full-size car I’d booked, and they handed me a Nissan Altima. Hey, at least it had more horsepower than the Mirage — I could almost feel the wind in my hair.

We hit the road with an ETA of 4:30 a.m. It was actually a nice ride — my son and I talked about everything under the sun until he fell asleep, which triggered “Super Alert Dad Mode.” I started seeing what I can only describe as interdimensional beings darting across the highway.

Once home, we napped before work, returned the rental car, and then I got an email from Delta: “We will not be reimbursing your rental car, but we have issued you a $70 refund for the canceled flight.” Almost broke even… if you ignore all the math.

Moral of the Story: Don’t let your return trip ruin the good memories you made. Even if it involves tsunamis, Mirage-level horsepower, and paranormal highway creatures.

Travel Tips I Learned the Hard Way

1. Never trust “Manager’s Special” — It’s code for “We’re giving you a car with the acceleration of a hair dryer.”
2. Airport water bottles are like toddlers — If you set them down for even a second, they will run away in public and humiliate you.
3. Don’t argue with rental car shuttle security — They are not here for logic. They are here for dominance.
4. Earthquakes don’t care about your connecting flight — Nature is the ultimate gate agent.
5. Locksmith math — $80 on the phone = $165 in person. The $85 is for showing up with a tool.
6. In-N-Out will test your willpower — The traffic is bad, but the burger is worth questioning your life choices.
7. Middle seats are where joy goes to die — Especially after you paid for the aisle.
8. If your kid falls asleep on a late-night drive — Prepare to meet every ghost, shadow person, and cryptid your imagination can create.