I have a really big family and they all insist that we set aside a week every year to go on a family vacation.  Typically we visit the Outer Banks of North Carolina.  It’s a warm little strip of sand protruding from the coast of North Carolina, which most people would look at as a tropical location full of relaxation of tanning for a week.  Every year my only hope is to lay on the beach and hear the waves crash on the shore as I soak in the sun with toasty sand slipping through my fingers.  This is never the case.  One week in particular provided me with a combination of intense stress and extreme humor.  By the end of it I kind of felt like I needed a vacation from this vacation.

I woke up one morning and started with my usual family vacation schedule: eating a lovely breakfast prepared by my aunt and playing a game of dominoes with my grandma and cousins.  When I walked into the kitchen my grandma was chewing on the center of a peach pit and explaining to my cousins what the different swear words meant.  Typical. 

Just as I had sat down, my mom and uncle bustled in the room announcing, “We are going to be visiting a big battleship that they have here.  Kids, go get ready.” 

My grandma spit the peach pit out of her mouth and onto the plate, revealing a disgusting brown lump.  All of my cousins groaned. 

My cousin Katie immediately expressed her disinterest by saying, “Um, that sounds absolutely awful.  What the hell are we supposed to do on a ship? Float?” 

The thing about my cousins is that every single one of them is a teenage girl, more interested in their selfie lighting and eyelash length than anything remotely close to a heap of metal floating in a bay.  The only boy in the family was my brother, Connor, and he would also much rather be swimming in the pool than clomping through the depths of a ship. 

Connor immediately complained, “Come on mom we don’t want to go at all.  That sounds so boring.” 

My mom and uncle are the members of the family that plan everything out and like to constantly be doing something.  Relaxing for the day was out of the question.  All of us complained that we didn’t want to go.  None of our cries of disagreement were heard.

It took almost an hour for everyone to get themselves into the cars.  Finally when we arrived at the battleship it started pouring rain.  My mom and uncle insisted that we continue despite the fact that we could hardly see our hands in front of our faces.  When we trudged on the ship, most of my cousins were very curious about the toilet size on the ships. 

Katie confusedly questioned, “These toilets look like they’re for toddlers.  What are the people supposed to do when they have to take a big poop?”  Classy. 

Not many questions about the history of the ship were asked.  Three hours later they had decided that the trip had been a success and that we could finally leave.  We all looked like wet raccoons, seeing as most of my cousins had piled on so much makeup for the adventure that it left long dark streaks across their faces. 
As we were heading back to the house we noticed that a thick black smoke billowed up from the trees of the forest like a ribbon unraveling into the sky.  Upon further research we discovered that a forest fire had sparked and continually blew towards the direction of our houses.  The rain hadn’t slowed it down a bit.  When we walked back into the house, the smoke had spread right along with us. 

Immediately upon walking inside of the house, the power shut out.  Most people wouldn’t really think much of it, seeing as it wasn’t too dark yet and would remain relatively cool inside the house as long as the doors weren’t opened too frequently.  To my family this was a disaster worse than a nuclear attack. 

My asthmatic cousin, Grace began coughing as loudly as possible as she complained between coughs, “This smoke is so thick! I… Feel…. LIke I’m on the… Verge… of death!” 

My grandma became incredibly fussy as she exclaimed, “It’s too damn hot in here, if the air doesn’t turn on soon I’ll be sleeping in the bathtub.” 

Twenty minutes later when the power hadn’t turned back on she plopped herself down in the tub and informed us that we would need to fill it with more ice every hour so that she would not overheat. 

On top of the hacking of my cousin and the screeching of complaints coming from my grandma, my Aunt Laura frantically called phone numbers to find a way to get the power turned back on and frantically was screeching, “This is absolutely preposterous.  We NEED power here.  It’s an absolute necessity.  What do you mean you can’t get my power on until the forest fire is out? Isn’t customer service your top priority?” 

I could hardly hear anything over their frantic exclaims and bustling about.  Simultaneously, two of my older cousins felt that this would be an appropriate time for them to go skinny dipping and when my aunt and uncle discovered it they hollered at the top of their lungs, “You girls are the biggest disgraces to this family I have ever seen.  That is so incredibly inappropriate! Don’t you care that your poor old grandmother is practically on the verge of death?”

In the midst of all of this hysterical bustling about, I stood there and felt as though I may scream or cry from all of the stress.  What kind of normal people act this way when the power is out for less than an hour?  It was ridiculous and embarrassing behavior.  But then I stopped and thought about it and realized that it was one of the funniest scenes I’d ever witnessed.  The over-dramatic antics and extremely inappropriate behavior was usual in my family.  I didn’t know why I was letting it bother me because honestly it was hilarious. 

I know that my family is a lot different from the typical family.  The typical family probably doesn’t discuss their bodily functions at such length or elaborate on vulgar behavior so fully, but that’s why I’m glad I don’t have a typical family.  I know they’re dramatic and inappropriate but I think that I’m lucky to be in such an open family.  Any problem I’m having I feel absolutely comfortable asking for help about it and I know they won’t judge me.  I have more unusual stories about my family over the course of my first 17 years than most people will ever get to experience in a lifetime.  They’re absolutely insane but I wouldn’t want to have it any other way.