Quiet, peaceful and dignified Hilton Head, Island. Doesn't exactly sound like our kind of place, does it? That's part of the fun. When we drive across that bridge, I can practically hear the Beverly Hillbillies theme song.
We don't premeditate our antics, mind you. (Well, usually.) But material always seems to present itself. And this year, it didn't waste any time.
Check in is at 4pm. We arrive at 11am. This happens every year. Last year, we stalked our condo until we saw the cleaning lady leave and then we moved in. What we weren't expecting, was the visit from the cleaning inspector. I'm not sure who was more surprised when he let himself in and we were sitting in the living room soaking wet from our visit to the pool. Thankfully, not naked...yet. I had stomach cramps till Wednesday, convinced they were going to kick us out. They didn't.
This year, they simplified things for us. We arrived to discover that the peep hole to our front door had been removed. When we put our eye up to it, we could see directly into the front of the condo. From all appearances, the cleaning lady had come and gone. But before my husband could start unloading the van, I voiced my concern about the cleaning inspector. He made fun of me. I finally convinced him to at least wait until we returned from the bicycle rental, buying us a little more time.
When we returned, Z ran to the door and pressed his eye against the peep hole. Then he screamed out in surprise when the cleaning inspector looked back at him from inside. So we did what any quiet, peaceful and dignified family would do.....we took off running and hid behind our van. Yeah, we did that. Then the dilemma became, how will we know when she leaves? That started an elementary style argument between my husband and Z that went something like this: "You look in the hole." "No, you look in the hole." That exchange was still repeating when the cleaning inspector rounded our van on her way to her next stop.
We rock at first impressions.
And that began our 7 day adventure on Hilton Head Island. An adventure that included a visit by Tropical Depression Beryl. Most vacationers let that stop them. They missed out. Beryl brought giant waves. I may have come close to drowning in the giant waves, but ya gotta live on the edge sometimes.
We enjoyed a lot of bike riding adventures. Whenever we would pedal away in our Von Trapp family line, Z would crank the Benny Hill theme song on his iPod. That was especially appropriate the day he was wearing his morph suit.
It wasn't all fun and games, though. I almost stepped on a snake, I had a slight accident in my pants when K rear-ended Z on her bike before falling off and when we were out shopping, I got trapped into buying a pair of shorts when they didn't have a dressing room and I opted to strip down in the far isle that suddenly filled with people and I couldn't change back. Yeah, that wasn't hard to explain to the cashier as she ran the scanner over the tag hanging off my butt.
Quiet, peaceful and dignified, right?
Hey, it's only one week out of the year. Or so it was. Somebody at our resort didn't get the memo about our family and accidentally sold us a Timeshare for September. Forever.
Don't worry, Hilton Head Island. We're usually tired by September. Kind of quiet. Maybe even peaceful. Don't hold your breath for dignified.
Just for kicks, here's a link to another way we entertained ourselves on the beach this year.
The goal: Freak out the joggers.
Causing the bike wreck was just an added bonus....