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      My dad made eye contact with me first.

      Sometimes being the oldest had its perks, like being able to stay up late or being the first one to stay home alone.

      But this time it wasn't a perk.

      I sat frozen on the couch unable to even take a breath, waiting for my dad to ask me a question.

      “Jake, what do you think rule number one should be?” my dad asked me.

      I thought for a moment and then said, “Uh—no running in the hallway?”

      My dad smiled, nodded, and said, “Yes! Rule number one is that there will be no running in the hotel hallway or lobby.”

      My siblings and I frowned and replied, “Yes, sir.”

      “Rule number two,” said my dad, glancing at Josh. “Josh, what do you think rule number two should be?”

      My mom took a deep breath in and calmly said, “Michael, let's speed things up, so we don't end up missing vacation.”

      My dad's name is Michael. And my mom's is Melissa.

      “Got ya,” replied my dad, winking at my mom.

      My dad looked at Josh and said, “Why don't I just state the rules, and if you agree, say yes, and if you disagree say, no.”

      Josh nodded.

      “Rule number two. No pushing or elbowing?”

      “Yes,” answered Josh.

      “Does everyone else agree?” asked my father.

      Madison and I nodded.

      My dad smiled, turned his head toward Madison, and said, “Okay, Madison, rule number three…”

      “Grrrrr,” sounded from Josh's stomach.

      Everyone turned and looked at Josh.

      Josh giggled.

      Josh is always hungry. He said he is going to marry a chef someday, so he gets the best cooked meals for the rest of his life.

      Not a bad plan.

      “Okay, rule number three,” my dad said again. “We all stay together.”

      “Dad, when you say stay together, do you mean on the beach, too?” I interrupted.

      “Yes, Jake,” said my dad.

      Those were words I didn't want to hear. Seriously, how could I become the best explorer if I had to hang out with my overprotective parents?

      “Okay, everyone knows the rules. Now let's get our bathing suits on!” my dad said.

      Josh, Madison, and I leaped off the couch.

      “Wait, wait, wait!” my mom cried out, holding both of her hands up in the air like she was trying to stop traffic. “I have two additional rules to add to your father's.”

      “Ugh!” I sighed, throwing my body back onto the couch.

      The twins threw their bodies, too.

      “Rule number four,” said my mom. “No fighting or yelling.”

      “You too, Mom,” I blurted out.

      Josh and Madison chuckled.

      My mom smirked and said, “That's fair. Your dad and I aren't allowed to yell, either.”

      “I know rule number five,” Josh interrupted.

      “Really?” said my mom. “What is rule number five?”

      “Eat lots of pasta!” said Josh.

      My mom shook her head.

      Josh loved pasta. If my parents would let him, he'd eat it for every meal.

      “Actually, I was thinking rule number five should be we all play nicely together,” said my mother.

      All of us stood with blank stares on our faces.

      “Well…that's it. Let's put our bathing suits on and head to the beach,” said my mom.

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