We drove through the hot, hot, hot Saturday in the big ugly bright red pick up truck because all of our pack-like-we’re-leaving-the-country stuff would not fit in my sweet little SUV. It was my birthday and I was glad to not have time to focus on it. 33 - uck.

Saturday we arrived at the Rehoboth Beach rental house, unpacked and unfunked the house. Yes, yes, yes, bedspreads off and into the closets, rental pillows off the bed and our pillows on, toilets wiped down and kitchen inspected. Ants - ick.

My sister made dinner and relaxing was easily achieved - esp. with some choice birthday merlot.

See my 33 year old purple wine teeth?

Sunday, we went to the hot-ass beach. It was so freaking hot that you had to be in the water or your skin would explode. Seriously. The lifeguard said so. My kids are monkeys in the ocean so they had a ball.

Meanwhile, I stood knee deep trying to spot the jellyfish that I knew were waiting to pounce and take me down. I’m a little paranoid about sea creatures. Jellyfish do pounce, you know.

When we returned from the beach, my Nana was there. My Nana. My 88 year old Nana who has to have things her way or the highway wanted to come and stay with us. With us (us = my husband, my 2 daughters, my mother, my sister and my other sister and her boyfriend who currently live in sin) in this rental house where she has to take the only first floor bedroom because she can’t climb the stairs and cannot stand to have the AC on over 85 degrees. The first floor was the coldest and the loudest but she swore it would be no trouble.

Hmmmm.

That evening we had a birthday party for my daughter and I who are 26 years and 8 days apart and the men had a bonding session over a bottle of Grey Goose. My husband …who doesn’t drink - ack.

Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday & Thursday were a blur of sand, sweat and card playing. Rummy 500 had taken over the house - a cause being led by my Nana. We all played. We played in the morning, in the afternoon and all night long. We played that damn game until we could not stand it anymore.

One of those nights, we walked the kids to the boardwalk to avoid the 500 shark we call Nana and almost died of heat exhaustion. My sister had a near panic attack from the crowds and the temp but luckily she was nursed back to good humor by the therapeutic scat sounds sung by her rugby-playing boyfriend.

Another night we played mini-golf in what felt like a hairdryer of an evening. If it hadn’t have been for my children there, I would have quit the stupid game. (Actually, I would not have played mini-golf sans kids…duh) My strategy was to hit the ball as hard as I could every time. I would highly recommend it - just for shits and giggles - if you have never tried that approach. Be careful though. It can quickly turn into human pinball.

After my Nana had had her fill of us and only a few tantrums, she returned to her own condo and our evenings were filled with spades, Cranium and even Truth or Dare. It was actually more of Truth or Truth as no one wanted to get out of their chair or leave themselves open to shots or nudity. It was an interesting game - as it should be, I guess. I had a bit too much to drink and was not so polite but that isn’t a family shocker. I have this tiny problem with honesty and its gentle delivery but that’s a topic for another day …or a couch.

The next day though…oh Lord. My one and only vacation hangover happened to be on the day that hell fire came up and took residence on the surface of the earth. Yes, I know - that’s what I get and I got it. And then I almost lost it in the bushes but we won’t go there either.

At the end of the week, my good uncle (yes - I have 1 good and 1 not) and his girlfriend came and we had a lovely visit. We went out for crabs, discussed financial planning and the merits of tank top ownership.

Very sexy, no?

And before we knew it, it was Saturday again and time to pack up and go home. Lucky for us, we hit bumper to bumper traffic on the bridge so I occupied myself with picture taking and biting my nails down to the nubby nubs.

You know how I love bridges.

It was a good week - hotter than Haiti but good. There were no sunburns or lingering arguments, no rainy days or sleepless nights (except maybe Nana’s). There was a lot of talking and catching up, a lot of game playing and time with the kids, a lot of glamour shots and bonding with the hopeful brother-in-law, a lot of good food and drink, A LOT of laughing and there was time. Time to just visit and reconnect. And that was the very best part of all.

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