I've written many times about the phenomenal group of friends I've been blessed to have for the last thirty years. We've been through dating, marriagse, kids, job changes, medical procedures and menopause. We've celebrated our kids' graduations and weddings; we've grieved together over the loss of a parent. I know my memory is going but I honestly can't remember a time when we weren't all happily entangled in each other's business. And I don't want to.
This winter, we're about to find out how much we really like each other. While we've done plenty of evenings out and several weekend trips to exotic places like Brown County, Indiana, the eight of us have never done a full-blown, adults only, we-deserve-it kind of vacation. Thanks to pesky distractions like mortgage payments and our children's educations, we haven't had the time and/or financial resources to do what we've always said we wanted to do - get away to some tropical location, park ourselves under a palapa hut and hang out for a week with nothing more pressing to do than call over that cabana boy for another pina colada.
After weeks of pouring over brochures and trading e-mails, we're finally ready. Deposits have been made, insurance has been taken out, and employers have been notified. We had to wait awhile but it's finally time for us to enjoy the fruits (especially papaya and mangos) of all that labor. So what if I have to put on a bathing suit to do that. I have a couple of months and a bunch of Walk Away the Pounds DVDs to help me get ready.
And you know what they say. What happens in Mexico . . .
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