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October 31, 2018

thanks google photos, lest I forgot

My google photos have once again served as a memory jogger also known as a writing prompt.  I am well aware that it is October, and that I am writing about our July vacation.  Still thinking it is worth sharing.

Thank you google photos for this memory: 
Curly sleeping on her makeshift
bed next to Reggie's pull out.
The Shenanigan family managed to carve out 4 days in late July.  Four whopping days when we aligned all of our schedules in order to go on a mini-vacation.   We had to factor in the forced march to Gettysburg with my dad (more on that later), the completion of Lad’s summer school classes, Tank and Ed’s return from their mission trip, the championship golf tournament at the club where the kids caddie, and of course the 4th of July dancing competition.

Chilling out at the bonfire area at the
 Stay-bridge -playing a rousing
 game of Balderdash.  A game
 that is impossible for Tank
 to be successful at, because he
 must write down the MOST
 preposterous definitions -
always a dead giveaway.  His
 secret mission is to make the
reader crack completely
up while reading his card.  
After everything was booked and scheduled, I (I almost typed ‘we’ as if Coach would ever open an email from the high school band director) realized that Tank had mandatory band camp the same week when we were planning to be out of town.  Tank didn’t care if he missed it.  I shot an email to the band director and let him know the difficulty in scheduling a few days away for the fam.  He gave Tank a pass.  

Fast forward:  The day of the first home football game, Tank dropped out of band.  He could no longer tolerate watching his friends enjoy the game while he performed with the band.  None of his friends were on band.  Also they have weekend competitions throughout the year.  Turns out he HATED those.  Play for 5 minutes, sit all day.  Not his thing.  Glad we didn’t bother to adjust our mini-trip to incorporate band camp into the mix.  

We chose a small town in Michigan for our 4 day July getaway.  Coach chose a hotel not far from the beach.  We considered doing an Airbnb, but the older boys were banking on a workout facility AND an awesome, included breakfast.  Coach factored it all in and booked us at a Staybridge.  One bedroom, one kitchen, one bathroom, one living area with a pullout.  

These guys slept on air mattresses, but grabbed
some time on a bed whenever possible -
 so they could better concentrate on their phones.
Jealous?  I bet.  So relaxing to do the fam-cram on vacation.  I begged for an additional bedroom.  Coach argued that it was only a few nights, it would be fine.  Our 3 oldest sons are over 6’1”.  Mini is 5’10”.  After having 6 kids, I need a direct path to the bathroom every night.  The bladder ain't what it once was.  Navigating footing around those bodies sprawled on squeaky air mattresses in the dark of night . . . equivalent of living on the edge, I guess.  

Another small hitch cropped up when Coach realized after we checked in that the pullout was only a twin.  A twin?  He had banked on Curly and Reg sharing the pullout.  Instead Coach channeled his inner MacGyver and created a bed for our 10 yr old by pushing the ottoman up to the end of the couch.  She managed to sleep there and not roll onto the floor.  A true blessing, because there would have been Hell to pay if she landed on one of her air mattress giant brothers flanking her sleeping spot.

Never, I mean never, mess with a sleeping teenage boy.



2 comments:

  1. I hate it when the four of us have to cram into a hotel room. The bickering increases ten fold! I can only imagine how hard it must be with your whole family!! Hopefully you weren't in the room too much each day!

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  2. No we weren't in the room much each day - mostly just to sleep. Getting everyone time to shower was a challenge, but since we have been back we have been without a kids' bathroom shower for 9 weeks - since Labor Day. It was supposed to take 3 days. SUPPOSEDLY, they are coming to install the shower door tomorrow. Not holding my breath.

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