Cruise with me baby!

We were off to the Bahamas! Crap. Time for a bathing suit, the old one just wouldn't work in the Caribbean. Nah, the little elastic that was guaranteed to make you look 10 pounds thinner, just wasn't doing its' trick any longer. I guess there was an expiration date I'd missed in the fine print, Warning: the ten pound deal is only guaranteed for one year OR twenty pounds, which ever comes first. No comment. So, I get the new suit, it looks really cute over the new black cover-up. However, looking ten pounds thinner does have a price. Actually, it was an even toss-up with the price I paid for the suit and the cruise ticket. But we all know that looking ten pounds thinner is priceless, so back off! As I see it, the only problem with this whole, "look ten pounds thinner" deal is, ten pound is just not enough. I really needed the, "Oprah Winfrey special" the one that removes all body fat and changes your hair color. Ten pounds, I mean, really! I have found that you can actually look "ten pounds thinner" if you simply remove the Cheetos from your pockets!
So we leave for Port Canaveral and I look at my husband and I say, "you know how to get there, right"? He replies, "yes, I know how to get there". 1.5 hours later, I say to him, "that is really weird that it is taking us so long, because it is only an hour drive". Note to self, don't leave home without your GPS. We finally arrive at the Port and now we are getting happy. Which in itself it unusual for our family. We consistently are in a bad mood for the first 12 hours of any vacation we have ever taken together. Don't ask me why and I am sure we are completely unique in this, but we fight like cats and dogs just getting to where we are going. Could it be because we leave our house with our hair on fire and cell phones attached to our ears each time? For my husband, getting away from his business is nearly impossible.
And now, because of the unfortunate incident of my husband claiming to know where he was going and the hair fire...we are told when we drive into the port that we have 20 minutes to park and CARRY on our luggage, which is fine with me, as I don't want that bathing suit out of my sight! By the time we actually get to check in we are all breathing heavy. And because of the whole driving incident, I have now been self appointed as "lady in charge" and I carry all our documentation up to the counter. The lady checks in my son and daughter and takes my husband and my documents which by the way are birth certificates, not passports and she starts to shake her head..."this won't do at all", she says and she points at me, "this is a hospital certificate, not a real birth certificate and your husbands is the same, however, since he was born in a Navel hospital, he is OK". "You, on the other hand, cannot leave the country". OK, go easy, breath...things start to spin and I saw our boat leaving without us, "are you sure," I ask. I mean, not for nothing, but I have been living off that same birth certificate for a whole lotta, lotta and it has always worked before. "No Mame, the others may move forward and step up to the yellow line, but you may not, you have to go talk to Louise". Now I glance up at the clock and see that the ship really does depart in 15 minutes, and I am starting to really sweat. Not just the running with your luggage kinda sweat, but the, "you just lost a bunch of money and ruined the best chance you had of testing out that new elastic on your suit sort of sweat". Yeah, it was ugly. While I am being ushered over to Louise's line, (reads, "the loser's who didn't get their passport in time" line,) I hear the first lady trying to get my hubby and kids on the boat! My husband puts his foot down and declares, "if she can't go, no one goes". I turned to protest, but it was too late, I was already being pushed towards a big policeman and a lady, whom I assumed was Louise. I heard whispers from the other port workers, "psh...she has to talk to Louise". Louise takes one look at my documentation and she declares, "This is not a a real birth certificate, it is a hospital certificate and only proves you were born". I looked at her and inside my head that little bad voice that always gets me in deeper is saying,"really, because I am thinking that is WHAT I am trying to prove". But instead, I take a deep breath and say in the nice, I don't mean to be any trouble voice, "OK. now I am going to cry". She looked down her glasses at me and said, "honey, crying is not going to help your situation. Can't you call someone to fax you over your real birth certificate"? As I think about this genius suggestion, my mind working fast and furious, wondering who could I call and what does my house look like? I remembered that we left it in a bit of a mess getting out and in that split second, I weighed going on the cruise versus someone seeing the likely orange juice carton left out next to the cracked eggs we left behind. "OK, I will try to call someone", I blurted. Well, as my luck was running- that angle didn't pan out. But by this time I realize that the cop was hanging up the phone and he turned to Louise and said that it was all up to her. Louise, who by the way, looked like someones adorable little grandmother with twinkling blue eyes, leaned over real close to my hair and breathed hotly in my ear, she said, "I am going to let this happen and if you ever breath a word of this to anyone, I will hunt you down and nothing, and I mean nothing will stop me from making this the last cruise you ever take". "Have I made myself clear"? Stunned, I reached up and gave her a huge hug, which she did not appreciate one little bit and said, "Louise, I love you"! So, in the end, we made it on the boat. The cruise was too much fun and the bathing suit, well the elastic trick worked pretty well, up until I had that last Pina Colada, and then, not so much!