As we navigated through our soggy summer vacation, we quickly became experts in wet golf, tennis, and snorkeling. However, the excitement soon waned as our villa transformed into a makeshift laundry room, with damp clothes draped over every available doorknob. Our highlight of the day? A cooler stocked with frozen candy bars that Max stumbled upon in the deserted marina shop.
Much like my typical strategy during unexpected snow days, I rummaged through our bags and pulled out classic games like Uno, The Game of Life, and a collection of family-friendly DVDs. To my dismay, Max and Lucas looked less than thrilled.
“Seriously, Mom? School of Rock?” Max exclaimed with a roll of his eyes.
“Okay, how about Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade?” I suggested cheerfully, trying to convince my teens—and myself—that this was indeed an exciting option. Silence ensued; clearly, our movie choices were out of touch. The incessant tapping of their devices resumed, drowning out my attempts at family bonding.
In a last-ditch effort, I scoured through our vacation games from their childhood. Unfortunately, no one was interested in a round of Bananagrams, nor did they want to engage in Tic-Tac-Toe or Hangman. Morale hit rock bottom. I even pitched a detailed laundry lesson, suggesting it might be a valuable life skill for their college years. Unsurprisingly, that idea fell flat.
Even during the brief moments of sunshine, the kids were restless and yearning to return to the pool after just 45 minutes. The days of making friends by burying their dad in the sand were long gone. Now, at 14 and 17, there was no incentive to seek out fellow beach-goers. On one particularly dismal day, I nearly contemplated arranging a playdate with a random 15-year-old we met in the elevator.
Typically, rainy vacations provide distractions like arcades or shopping malls, but we were marooned without a vehicle. I felt like I was stranded on a deserted island with my teenagers. My SOS note to myself was officially penned.
Just when we thought things couldn’t get worse, we learned that grocery stores would be closed for two days due to Cup Match—a widely celebrated cricket tournament in Bermuda. The news sent Max and Lucas into a frenzy over the last frosted strawberry Pop-Tart, and soon everyone was cranky, forming temporary alliances like contestants on a reality show. And just to add to the chaos, I misplaced my go-to hair gel, leading to a full-blown frizz fest reminiscent of the totally awesome ’80s. There were even whispers of changing our flights to return home early, despite it being a heatwave back in the Northeast.
Yet, amidst the disarray, moments of joy managed to break through. Max, our budding comedian, provided entertainment with his hilarious impressions during dinner. Lucas, our quieter son, found his voice and harmonized with the music from my iPod, belting out tunes from 1975’s History: America’s Greatest Hits. My partner and I stole a moment for a “date” at the pool, sharing the last remaining beer on wet lounge chairs. During the heaviest downpour (3 ½ inches, to be exact), we banded together to create a home movie that hilariously documented Mark’s less-than-stellar golf game, complete with amusing background music and witty captions.
During the rare dry spells, the boys took to the teal waves, their youthful skin soaking up whatever sun peeked through the clouds. Mark caught up on work emails while I snuck away to the spa more than once. Being cooped up indoors for the duration of our vacation turned out to be more enjoyable than I had anticipated. Not only did we survive our rain-soaked getaway, but we also grew a bit closer. New memories were made, and plenty of selfies were captured—souvenirs for our hearts.
As I packed away the unused sunscreen, I couldn’t help but ponder that perhaps sunshine is a bit overrated.
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Summary
Our rainy vacation turned out to be a mix of challenges and unexpected bonding moments, reminding us that even in less-than-ideal circumstances, family time can be truly rewarding.
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