My next vacation....

Still on the current vacation (see two posts ago), which hasn't gotten any better. So I've started planning my next vacation. It's going to go something like this:

When I go snorkeling in the crystal clear waters (not like the chalky waters here) I'll see lots of fish I've never seen before -- sort of like the kind you'd imagine they have in the seas of Pandora. Then suddenly a school of dolphins will playfully beckon me to take rides with them; on one of the rides I'll get to see a humpback whale up close.

All those bikini-ed women on the beach will keep their tops on. Until they see me. Then they'll take them off -- as they stare at me with a longing, pleading look.

My stomach will completely digest every meal I gorge myself on at the buffet so that I'm actually hungry for the next meal.

Whenever it's time for me to take a workout in the pool, all the little brats on their floats will immediately scoot out of the way. On butterfly day the topless beauties will line the pool and cheer every time when I finish a repeat. Fights will break out about who gets to sit closest to the end where I rest in between repeats. (A few men will stand in the background with an I'd-be-honored-if-you'd-do-my-wife look on their faces.)

Random people will come up to me in the restaurant and ask, "Are you John Craig -- the one who writes that blog? I really, really enjoy it."

My daughter will beg me to play Ping Pong and go snorkeling and just in general spend more time with her. My son will tell me how much he admires me and wants to be like me.

That's not exactly the way this vacation has gone.

My daughter said to me the other day, "Dad, Johnny acts really immature for his age. And you're 55 and you act even more immature than him. You're not even a father. You're more like a brother -- a younger brother. You're such a pest. You have no idea how annoying you are. Just go away."

My son said, "Dad, spending time with you is about as appealing as a blow job from a crocodile." When I laughed, he, high on his own wit, added, "No, maybe from a shark -- with all those rows of teeth" and then laughed in appreciation of his own humor.

I've recently taken to telling them that their insults are just their way of telling me that they love me. (This is in an effort to get them to desist.) They, of course, just groan and say no.

Reality: it almost always sucks.

(Can anyone tell me where I can get tickets to Pandora?)

Addendum, same day: My son just read this and said, "I love the way you criticize me for laughing at my own jokes, as if you never do that Dad."