I was busying myself by shoving clothing and accessories into our luggage when someone rapped at the door.
My dad went to open it and in walked my uncle. "You guys ready to leave?"
"Give us ten minutes," my mom replied. "We'll meet you in your room."
He nodded his assent and left. Mom and I went turned back to check the hotel room for anything we'd missed.
Someone rapped at our door again. I opened the door to my uncle, again.
"What the hell room am I in?" he asked, a look of confusion hiding any embarrassment there may have been.
Mom and I giggled maniacally as we lead him to his room.
This is the same uncle who this weekend lost his pitching wedge when it slipped out of his hands and into a swamp when he was golfing in the pouring rain.
I love my family.
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