National Lampoon's Summer Vacation

My life could be a script for National Lampoon's Summer Vacation! Last weekend my in-laws arrived two days early 'Cousin Eddie' style, in a Winnebago parked in front of my house while I assumed the Clark Griswold role for better or worse, as if dictated by my wedding vows. Though my mother and late father-in-law always arrived at their leisure over our 23-year marriage without much forethought for our schedule, as my passive husband permitted, I cannot help but love these people who comprise my family and admire their sense of adventure!

God bless 'em! Who could blame my 84-year-old mother-in-law for desperately wanting to see her son and grandchildren while embarking on a 2,000-mile trek to the Pacific Northwest, reminiscent of the travels she took with her late husband who passed last summer after nearly 65 years of marriage? This time my sister-in-law (aka Chia) and her partner of 18 years (aka Junker), along with their intimidating Boxer with enormous balls named Lloyd, agreed to drive grandma in the rented Winnie.

Unfortunately Lloyd with the 'yuge' balls had a bad case of diarrhea when they arrived. When Lloyd wasn't trying to mount my 15 lb. Schnoodle, he was marking my entire front yard. Junker, who reminds me of Clark Griswold's harmless cousin Eddie, claimed the dog was stressed out from travel. Who could blame him? Meanwhile, I soon found myself hosing off my front yard as flies accumulated around the disgusting landmines in the 99-degree heat, I shit you not! Thankfully they lacked a General Lee horn to sound their arrival, although with the RV generator's extension chord plugged into the front of my house blowing my fuse box (literally), there was no mistaking whose relations had taken over the neighborhood during our annual neighborhood block party. 

I was not surprised to have nightmare the first night picturing Junker dumping his shitter down our storm sewer while drinking a Budweiser in his bathrobe during our block party, seemingly aware the RV tank was full. Fortunately, my husband directed the crew, along with my 8-year-old son who was eager to ride in the RV, to the Portland Sanitation Station the next day where they left the dump for free (not sure it was entirely legal). I was personally relieved when they returned relatively clean, except for Lloyd with the GI issues, which prompted a trip to the grocery store with my sister-in-law for dog food.

The grocery store was a daily adventure with my sister-in-law Chia to buy a case of Budweiser. The first trip to Safeway was the icing on the cake as Chia assumed the role of Cousin Eddie, and I, Clark Griswold. With a 30 lb. bag of dry dog food under one arm and a 30 can case of Budweiser under the other, she proceeded to stuff my arms with canned dog food, hamburger and rice for the dog to 'stop him up'. I assumed she'd ask me to buy something nice for myself as well but I had no intention of footing this bill! Sidling up to a gentleman in the self-checkout lane, she proceeded to edge him out and place her heavy load on the ledge. Needless to say, he left angry with his middle finger directed at Chia as she kept yelling 'Hey Lady' to the check out attendant for assistance. I cared very little about the embarrassment, perhaps mid-life acceptance of crazy or simply numb from the entire life experience of their visit. Either way, I patted myself on the back for having survived the adventure with my sister-in-law already buzzed.

Come to find out, Chia began sneaking my prized bike with a basket for my Schnoodle to cart cases of Budweiser home from the grocery store. Tipsy at dinner one evening she recounted how she parked the bike directly in the New Seasons grocery store so it wouldn't be stolen without a bike lock key. Laughing she exclaimed that the manager called twice on the loud speaker, "Would the lady who left the bike by the bananas please come to the checkout so we can help you lock it outside?" Needless to say, she ignored the intercom and finished her shopping, complaining that they didn't stock Budweiser at checkout. Surely a humorous adventure for onlookers, I'm thankful my bike was not stolen.

My children were equally amused the entire week, from Junker pulling out his pliers to demonstrate how he yanks out his rotten teeth, to being surveilled by Aunt Chia around the neighborhood (with skills less savvy than a new CIA recruit) walking her scary shitty-ass dog, to shouting while attempting to teach grandma card games despite her broken hearing aid batteries. The real life lessons learned were priceless!

'Adulting' eight individuals for an entire week, sightseeing, cooking for nine and cleaning up, while managing my four children's activities and answering to everyone involved was exhausting. My house was always too cold for grandma who preferred falling asleep on my porch dressed in a sweater amidst the 90-degree temperatures. Honestly, I missed having an outside job to escape to like my husband for a bit of sanity, rather than argue with grandma that she needed to get in the wheelchair, aka 'Vacation Transportation' we rented for the week, if we were to arrive anywhere on time. Although I admire her courage and persistence, I pleaded, "No you cannot take your walker down the steep hill to the river and back fishing with the boys!" Appreciative of Junker's kindness and patience fishing with me and the boys, I'll admit I was equally 'shocked and awed' when he mentioned to Chia they'd have to start saving for a return trip for my daughter's high school graduation in three years.

Having apologized to neighbors in my direct vicinity for the unsightly inconvenience, I was honestly relieved when our guests departed after seven days without a citation from the city. My children were thrilled to find two garbage bags filled to the brim with empty beer cans in their wake. They assumed responsibility for recycling and earned $14. Thanks to the alcohol consumed, my children also practiced math and that drinking ten Budweisers a person per day, along with wine, is what alcoholism looks like. Plus you lose your teeth when you don't brush!

Needless to say, I'm decomposing today like the remnants of shit in my yard. I've forgone the annual forced family fun (#FFF) Portland Bridge Pedal bike ride to take a day off. Somewhat guilty to miss the #FFF, I'm not sure I have any of grandma's endurance left! I can't remember the last time I had a day of solitude. I love my family and I am clearly devoted to my husband who deserves all the children and responsibility today.