(When I’m eight, my family takes a vacation to the Jersey Shore. We rent a four-bedroom vacation home because there are quite a few people coming: my grandparents, my parents, me, my brother, [Uncle #1], and [Aunt #1], who is pregnant at the time. It’s a little cramped when it comes to bathrooms, but everyone at least has a bed. On the day we arrive, [Aunt #2] calls and asks if she and [Uncle #2] can also come. They’re having problems with their marriage and think a vacation might help. My grandma tells her yes and informs me and my brother that we’ll have to sleep on the couch. Still, it shouldn’t be too crowded. Then [Aunt #2] and [Uncle #2] arrive, but not alone. They also bring along their three children AND one friend per child. This doubles the number of people. Added to this, it starts raining incessantly, meaning we’re all stuck in the house together. In all, it’s sixteen people, four beds, two toilets, and one shower. [Aunt #2] and [Uncle #2] argue constantly, the whole time. Each of their kids finds out that they don’t really like the friend they brought and start fighting with them, as well. At one point, [Cousin #2] tries to pull a mean prank on her friend, but it goes horribly wrong. It ends up with me having some nasty burns on my hands. My grandma is also picking fights with pretty much everyone just because she lives for drama. So, this nightmare vacation has the cranky grandma, the feuding couple, two thirteen-year-old girls in an extended cat fight, an eight-year-old with burnt hands who needs help eating and using the toilet, four boys who are constantly screaming and punching each other, a pregnant woman who needs the bathroom a lot and always finds it occupied, and five other people just trying to survive. We’re there for a week, and it rains the whole time. In the aftermath of the whole debacle, [Aunt #2] and [Uncle #2] get divorced, and there are several family feuds spawned that last for years. Some of them remain unresolved to this day. Now, nearly twenty years later, my mom calls me.)
Mom: “[Cousin #1] is getting married!”
Me: “Oh, that’s great! When’s the wedding?”
Mom: “It’s in four months, and they’re having a beach wedding in New Jersey.”
Me: *remembering last time* “Oh. That’s… nice.”
Mom: “So, your grandma is renting a beach house, and we’ll be staying there with [everyone who was there last time, except [Uncle #2], plus [Aunt #1] and [Uncle #1]’s kids, [Cousin #2]’s husband, and [Cousin #3]’s wife]. Should I tell her you’ll be staying with us?”
(Pause.)
Me: “HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! Hahaha! Ha! No.”
Mom: “What? I’m sure it won’t be like before.”
Me: “Really? So, how many bedrooms are there?”
Mom: *pause* “Four.”
Me: “And bathrooms?”
Mom: “Two.”
Me: “And isn’t [Cousin #2] pregnant?”
Mom: “Yes.”
Me: “And [Cousin #3] is having marital problems?”
Mom: “Yes.”
Me: “Sounds like a sequel to last time: Jersey Shore Nightmare Vacation: The Next Generation. Tell them I’ll pass.”
(The wedding hasn’t happened yet, so I’m waiting to see how it all goes. My brother has also declined the invitation in a similar manner, but everyone else has apparently forgotten how awful it was.)
