Are We Normal?

This week, we are on vacation in Myrtle Beach/Chattanooga.

With me are the following cast of characters:

The Diva, natch

The Bubbe

Mammoo

Cueball

Gram (my  mom)

Papa (my dad)

Below is a numbered list of things that have happened on our vacation that cause me to wonder if we are a normal family.

1.  Is it normal that, given the beach is two blocks away and the swimming pool is downstairs, a 10-year-old would be lying on a hotel bed reading?

2. Is it normal that, while waiting in line to get on the Sea Screamer in 100-degree heat, a person would be knitting Christmas socks?

3. Does this even look anything like normalcy?

4. Or this?

Seriously, I’m reexamining my entire value system.

5. Here’s conversation that was had in my car this morning.  Does this sound normal to you?

As we drive down the strip in Myrtle Beach…
Papa (to The Diva): “Hey, there’s the Dollhouse. You need to go there. You like dolls.”
The Diva: “Yeah, let’s do that!”
Me: “Dad, seriously? It’s a strip club.  See the sign that says, ‘Girls, Girls, Girls!’?”
Papa: Oh.
The Diva: I’m not looking into that as a career option.

6. Not having an iPhone myself, I wonder…is it normal that people spend so much time on one while on vacation?

7. Is it normal that I am now, officially, in love with a house?

8. Is it normal that The Diva has a Dr. Love impersonation, which she does when she’s had a lollipop or, say, her tongue’s been stained by Fierce Melon Gatorade?

The more of these I type and compile into one list, the more concerned I am becoming about my relatives and myself.

Are we normal?

And to add insult to injury, tomorrow we’ll travel to Chattanooga, and Big Daddy will enter the mix.  The last time he was on vacation with us, this happened:

Papa: insert some smart-alecky comment here

Big Daddy: “I’ll tweak your nipples, Old Man.”

Be afraid.

Be very afraid.

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