Brought Back Broke

I must admit that I have always taken a great deal of pride in planning wonderful experiences with my grandchildren. According to The Book of Grandmother Standards written by my dear friend, Jane Battle, I am an A-list Grandmother. At least I used to be.

A few weeks ago, Tim and I cruised the Caribbean with Pollywogs Bryan, Tyler, and Keegan. We also allowed moms Shelley and Krissy to come along. Unfortunately, the moms saw it all.

Things started out normal enough—flights from Charlotte, Huntsville, and Richmond converged in Atlanta, and we flew to Miami together. Baggage claim was enough to make a grown man cuss (and I think he probably did), and the shuttle driver was so slow that I was sure that he was more worried about a pending dental appointment than getting us to the port before the ship left. However, it was when we set foot on the Carnival Glory that things really began falling apart.

The tall blonde handing out brochures used her iciest voice to inform me that I didn’t need one; that she had given a brochure to someone in my party. Not exactly the cruise hospitality that I had come to expect, but it was early yet.

We made our way to the lunch buffet where Tyler (5) immediately disappeared into the desperately hungry horde, all of whom were delighted to have finally escaped the snow back home. My mantra, Ransom of Red Chief, settled my nerves until I found him.

After what my brother calls “typical cruise food,” it was pool time. Both the big pools were 4’6”, salt water, and a little challenging for non-swimmers Tyler and Bryan, so we opted for the ankle-deep baby pool. Wahoo!

Krissy and I left the kids in the capable care of Tim and Shelley while we wandered the halls looking for the kids’ club registration desk. There another tall blonde informed me that because Tyler was five he had to spend the week with a group of two-year-olds.

“We have rules about these things!” she said.

Are you kidding me? We were on a Carnival cruise ship for spring break. There were no rules!!

Irritable tall blonde #2 eventually consulted with “someone” and agreed that Tyler could go to cruise ship day care with Bryan (6 and smaller than Tyler). That settled, Krissy and I were ready for a refreshing dip in the baby pool. Thirty minutes later we were on our way to the infirmary with three blue children who were suffering from either a) incompetent supervision b) frigid water or c) loose pool paint. The nurse carefully examined each of them and rendered a diagnosis of complete and utter bewilderment. The Smurfs were sent on their way.

Before the first nightfall, Bryan had convinced Shelley that he absolutely could not live without another stuffed animal to add to his collection of 200; Keegan discovered that room service would miraculously appear with turkey sandwiches, chips, and cola at bedtime; and Tyler was excited to get the top bunk first.

The next day was a sea day, and the adults were ready for some R and R. Tyler found the pool slide; Keegan learned there was a sushi restaurant; and Bryan threw a fit because the self-serve ice cream machine had run out of strawberry.

On Tuesday we pulled into port at Costa Maya and headed for the free pool in town. Tyler had a complete melt down in the pool and cried for his mommy; Bryan tried to shop his way through the junk stores; Keegan discovered that the swim up bar sold cola; and the adults had to share the one and only available lounge chair. As soon as the Mayan folk dancers finished, we surrendered and returned to the ship.

Over the next several days, we turned into mountain goats to climb Mayan ruins, cruised the Rio Wallace in search of howler monkeys and crocodiles, cheered the Charros at a Mexican horseshow and whacked a piñata. At a Mexican buffet, Keegan mistook the black beans for chocolate pudding and filled her bowl; Tyler ate a few bites of chicken and gagged at the thought of rice pudding; and Bryan came apart when he learned that he couldn’t spend the afternoon swimming in the ranch’s pool. He’s just lucky that Shelley didn’t try to drown him in the pool; I saw that look in her eyes. We bought souvenirs at Ron Jon’s and drank margaritas at a seaside bar. The kids sat on a cross-eyed donkey and stuck their feet in giant shoes for photo ops. Every bug in the area found Keegan an easy target, and I’m certain that her squeals could be heard back home. All of us filled our nostrils with the pollen of unfamiliar plants and dust from Old Mexico and began coughing like refugees from a TB ward. When Tyler’s temp hit 101.6°, I knew that something menacing was in that air.

On board the ship the kids swam, ate their weight in ice cream, and watched movies. Keegan liked her Kids’ Club activities, but the boys were done after the first day. Irritable tall blonde #3 complained that Tyler told some of the children that he was really 5 ½ and not six, causing undue pain and confusion for the room of highly gifted and entirely age appropriate children. The Carnival Kids’ Club was crossed off our list of wonderful activities offered by the cruise ship.

The kids learned a lot of things on the trip. Keegan learned that she preferred the adult menu and that she looked great in orange. Bryan learned that Teddy bears were not native to Mexico and therefore unacceptable souvenirs, and Tyler learned to dress himself. His first attempt consisted of a plaid shirt and plaid pants—different plaids of course. Rachel had spent hours ironing all his clothes and packing matching outfits together, so we took lots of pictures that day.

One night on the way to dinner, Tyler had his pants on backward, so Tim took him to the bathroom for a quick adjustment. From outside the stall, Tim saw the pants drop and then come right back up.

“Tyler, the zipper goes in the front.”

“Oh, man.”

Tim should have also checked his underwear. When Tyler assumed the fetal position and slept through dinner, we noticed the leg hole of his superhero underwear around his waist. After that, we helped Tyler dress and agreed that all of us owed Rachel an apology.

Before we left home, Rachel warned Tyler and us that he was not to lose his first tooth on the ship. He finally had a loose tooth after months of envying Bryan his toothless smile. (You see what’s coming, don’t you?) Tyler lost his first tooth while eating an apple. Not only did he lose it but he also lost it. We looked everywhere, tore the bunk bed apart, but no tooth. Maybe he swallowed it between the pollen and dust coughs.

Krissy, younger and more energetic than the other adults, decided that she needed a night out while Keegan and Shelley slept. Thinking that no one would ever suspect a thing, she stayed out until she won a little money at the casino. Unfortunately when she swiped her key card at the stateroom door, Keegan alerted and screamed, “Burglar!” Shelley swooped up out of the bed like an avenging angel or at least Krissy thought she was an avenging angel. Perhaps that speaks more to Krissy’s conscience than anything else.

By the last day, we were worn out and needed a quiet sea day. It was quite windy, so we found chairs in a small alcove near the baby pool and staked our claim. Then it started. Tim and Tyler were playing miniature golf when a gust of wind blew Tyler over onto some bricks. His elbow hurt but they kept playing. Later I took Tyler to the infirmary because he kept complaining about his elbow, and I didn’t want to have to explain to Rachel why I didn’t take her injured child to the doctor. After an hour, the doctor still wasn’t sure what was wrong with the elbow but suggested that we go to the ER in Miami (yeah, like that was going to happen) as soon as we disembarked. In the meantime, she advised us to check his pulse and have him wiggle his fingers. She gave him a sling which made him very happy, and we returned to the baby pool to show off the sling.

We hadn’t been at the baby pool three minutes when Keegan jumped up out of the water screaming like a band of banshees. She was covered in a red rash—back to the infirmary. The rash and the wailing continued until Benadryl took effect, and we got another diagnosis of complete and utter bewilderment. Not too surprisingly, no one found infirmary charges on their bills. The staff knew about us, and no one wanted to discuss the loose pool paint again with Krissy, the “Goochland Aquatics Director.”

We managed to disembark without causing much of a scene, found our shuttle to the airport, and left Miami and the Carnival Glory to those of sterner stuff. The following Monday, Tyler got a bright red cast on his elbow until the break could heal. He also got an antibiotic for his sinus infection. And he explained to his mom that we looked everywhere (well, not exactly everywhere) for his tooth.

Well, there you have it. My daddy used to tell everyone who would listen that I sold his car and took his money and his checkbook and moved to Georgia. Now my daughter tells everyone who will listen that her mother took her kid on a cruise and brought him back broke.