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Just the Seven of Us…

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Did I mention that TWD and I are going on another cruise?  Well, we are.  Only this time it’s going to be a bit different from last year’s trip to Bermuda.

Firstly, I’m not worried about us breaking up this time.  (I was, admittedly, a bit concerned last summer—the longest we’d ever spent together was two or three days—but we got through it, didn’t kill each other in the process and rather enjoyed ourselves.)

Secondly, his entire family is coming.  And yes, I do mean his entire family: kids, parents and even his maternal grandmother.

I’m a bit nervous.  I don’t like traveling in groups.  In fact, I don’t really like traveling with anyone.  But this, I suppose, is one of those times when the journey is more important than the destination.  And I’ve already been to the Bahamas, so if I don’t get to check every last tourist attraction off of my to-do list, I can live with that.

I’m still doing my best not to reveal the age or gender of TWDs kids on my blog but having just realized the following, I will say this: they are now just about the age that I was when I went on my first cruise.

Would you like to hear about my first cruise?

Good.  I thought so.

I was, to put it mildly, going through a bit of an awkward phase.  I didn’t know what to do with my hair, hadn’t figured out how to pluck my eyebrows and thought that dressing to match my cruise BFF was the height of fashion.  Somewhere along the line however, despite our matching outfits, said BFF and I managed to pick up a pair of admirers.  She got the cute one from Arizona.  I got the exotic one from Puerto Rico.

On the last formal night of the cruise, they surprised us with long stem roses.  It was, as far as I was concerned, the most exciting thing that had ever happened to me.  (I’m pretty sure I still have the rose, actually.)  But then I found out that my crush was a Jehovah’s Witness and wasn’t actually allowed to dance.  To his credit, he did eventually man up and asked his father for permission to ask me to dance.  We were allowed a single slow song.  At the end of the cruise, he wrote me a love note but it was mostly in Spanish and my language skills were even worse back then than they are now.

Suffice it to say, I am very glad that I won’t be spending this cruise with a Jehovah’s Witness who isn’t allowed to dance.  Or trying to come up with matching outfits.  Or wondering how to pluck my eyebrows.

plucking eyebrows

Instead, I’ll be dancing the night away with my lapsed Catholic, secure in the knowledge that my eyebrows look fabulous.  But TWD’s kids will be back where I was the first time I went on a cruise.  And even though I have no desire to revisit my awkward years, I’m actually kind of excited that I get to be a part of theirs.  Especially as I’ve finally convinced the eldest that hair products are not the enemy…



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