When I said that to my parents back in 1978, they escorted me outside and told me to share the dog's dinner while they and my brothers finished eating and played bingo.
My kids? "Blah blah blah...boo hoo hoo." They're forever letting me know what's on their minds. I blame the media...and their friends....
And George Bush...
Anyway, the wedding was now over, my cousin and his honey pie were now legal, and we had another day at the beach.
Sadly, it was also the day where it was time for me to start finding all of our cell phones, be the laundry sorter and packer, pull out all of the cleaning supplies and become the unpaid maid.
And then we ran to the hotel, got pancakes from my uncle and watched as the kids 
started fighing with each other using weapons for women, AKA kitchen utensils, to stage a mock baseball game on the deck and throw dried fruit at each other.
Well, that'll kill some time.
And as of today I'm still not sure why son's #2, #3 and #4 didn't want to go play in the ocean with me anymore. It's not like I was the only mom wearing borrowed Columbia shorts and 1940's vintage tee shirts to cover my red shoulders and buttocks.
Matter of fact, now that I think about it, no one else but the 5 and 6 year old's got in the water with me either.
I'm wondering if my kids think I'm one of "those" moms. You know, the loud ones that wear straw hats and carry an umbrella in the summer, but no one ever tells you that you're that mom?
And to extract my revenge, I paid off one of my new 2nd cousins to plaster stickers all over my boys when they took a nap in my aunt'
s hotel room.
Sadly, he only managed to get the 16 year old before they all woke up.
Am I evil? Oh, who cares...I was on vacation.
And it was time to eat anyway.
So we took the kids over to some tiny little place that advertised fresh seafood, and as soon as we were able to pull my daughters arm out of the fish tank, we sat down, ordered caffeinated drinks, appetizers and began to study the menu.
When all of the sudden the ENTIRE beach could hear my 6 year old yell, "What in the halibut is this? No freaking lobster and we're at a beach?!"
How do you explain to a child who's demanding that he speak to the manager that we're closer to Mexico than to Maine and shrimp is the speciality without causing a scene?
Answer...you don't. You tell the child to can it and eat some octopus or h
e's headed outside to share dinner with the owner's dog.
And before we settled in for the night and I finished all of the packing, we took a pit stop at my aunt and uncle's hotel one more time to say our goodbyes, get some hand made mesh shell bags and farmer's fresh crackers to take home.
We then returned to our temporary dwelling where I finished the laundry, found all of the remote controls that weren't ours in the 6 year old's pillow case, pulled all of the travel blankets out of my daughters suitcase, swept, mopped, vacuumed, finished the dishes and replaced all of the plastic stemware before I went out on the deck for a moment of peace.
And heard a thud, a chair scrape, a loud, "Ahhh! And then...*burp*
I went back inside the kitchen, saw my daughter sitting at the table drinking my last coke in a plastic margarita glass I had just put away and asked, "Um...excuse me...what is all of this? Yo
u're supposed to be in bed" and I gestured at the table.
She gave me that look she has, giggled, burped again and said, "I'm a fancy girl with a fancy drink. Duh...Debbie."
So I snapped a quick picture for posperity and future bribery purposes before I made her clean the rest of the sand out of the bathtub.
I win...
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