Our family is fun. (Some might argue irresponsible, but whatever.) There are now 9 of us out to have a good time, freely admitting there's minimal adult supervision, and occasionally things go awry. We're totally used to that and if you've read this blog at all, you are too. Most of the time, I roll with it. Occasionally, I get frustrated. Like, rarely. I'm talkin hardly ev-er.
But here's what pisses me off. When Shark Week unfortunately coincides with our family vacation to Hilton Head Island, where fun is priority #1 and mishaps are at an all-time high, if I happen to ever-so-barely lose my cool, let's everyone stop making eye contact with each other across the room and sure as hell stop with the under-your-breath Jaw's theme song because I'm "putting off a scary vibe."
Duuuh, duh. Duuuh, duh...Shut it, Chuckles.
So let me break it down for ya and you can draw your own conclusions, because in my opinion, any sane non-pms'ing person would have gotten equally as irritated as I did...
...when someone from Schuler's Bakery came up with the lame-brain idea to make their doughnut boxes taller causing it to not fit on top of the dashboard and 2 hours into our journey came sliding off and scattered our dozen chocolate covered creme-filled dough balls of heaven straight across my crotch and the floor of our van. If ever the 3 second rule applied, that was it. "Duuuh, duh."
...when somewhere in North Carolina, my bladder was about to explode and 3, count em THREE, different gas stations told me their bathrooms were "out of order" and I might have flipped the double bird to an entire town. "Duuuh, duh."
...when I ended up jumping out of the van while we were stopped at a light, ran across 4 lanes of traffic to a McDonald's and straight into the nearest bathroom stall. Ya know, the one with no toilet paper. "Duuuh, duh."
...when just half a mile down the highway from that disastrous exit we passed the South Carolina welcome center. "Duuuh duh..."
...when the morning of our 2nd day, Ron inflated a giant double inter-tube in the middle of our condo living room. Over top the pull-out couch where our youngest daughter and grandson were laying. Right beside the table where my full cup of coffee sat. In my defense, I wasn't the only one screaming that time. "Duuuh duh..."
...when Ron lost another hat and pair of sunglasses in the ocean. Thus bringing his grand total over the course of 17 years of Hilton Head trips to 27 hats and 22 pairs of sunglasses. "Duuuh duh..."
...when everyone decided that I would lead our evening bike ride and then no one kept up with me. "Duuuh duh..."
...when I was taking our annual 'Watch Us Grow' pictures of all of our kids at the playground and a random little girl kept posing herself into the shot. "Duuuh duh..."
...when Ron tried to use the "finders keepers" defense over an inflatable beach ball he took from a little girl's dad at the pool. "Duuuh duh..."
...when we unsuccessfully tried the same defense over the super cool sand hole, complete with carved in bench seats, we found abandoned on the beach one day. By the time the family who created it returned from lunch, we'd re-designed it to fit our grandson's baby pool, accidentally caved in a bench seat (or 2), and set up our shade tent over the entire thing. FINE!!! TAKE YOUR DAMN HOLE BACK!!!
Oh, nuh uh, Frozen Moo. You picked the wrong day to mess.
That wasn't just me.
My whole family had my back on that one.