Vacation Constipation

My family's summer vacations at the Jersey Shore have always been crowded and chaotic.  In 2000 we sold the house that was my great grandfather's and then my grandparents. The house was originally a summer home with rental properties. We had an efficiency and an apartment on the second floor and two bungalows in back. After my grandparents started to live there year round, they stopped renting and the second floor rooms became extra family bedrooms. I went from a crowded room with two 3/4 beds on the first floor to a nice sized room with bay windows all to myself.  My parents took over the efficiency and made it their own. The bungalows were primarily used for storage by then.  We went from being crowded into the 1st floor of a 3 story house, to spreading out into 8 bedrooms. And then we sold the house.

Now, we were 13 people renting 4 bedroom townhouses and we were back to being like a basket full of puppies for a week at a time.  We brought our inflatable beds, or slept in mixed groups of adults and children in rooms filled with bunk beds. The saving grace was that my mother and aunt only rented brand new properties, so we became sardines in a spiffy new can.

One summer we rented a lovely house in North Wildwood and my (now) ex-boyfriend got indoctrinated into our way of vacationing.  This was a quiet, conservative man, totally non-confrontational, all Midwestern sensibilities and ill equipped to join our fray.  He was going to have to deal with very little personal space and even less privacy. We were used to each other. We'd been loving each other and fighting each other forever. This was all new territory for Ex and it took its toll.

Apparently, the first place it showed was his digestive system.   We'd been at the house for a couple of days and I noticed that when everyone was on the beach, he'd disappear for a while. Since the house was so close to the beach, my family came and went from the house to our little spot on the sand as needed for snacks, drinks, or whatever.

About three days into the vacation, Ex was getting rather testy, which wasn't really like him at all. We were walking home from a nearby restaurant when he pushed ahead of the rest of our crowd, heading back to the townhouse. My mom asked what was up with him, since she noticed how out of character he was behaving. Since I had figured out what his problem was (he would never ever ever ever discuss such matters with anyone!) I just told her that he was looking for a couple minutes of privacy. She understood better than I imagined, and she had no problem discussing it in detail.  She told me that sometimes she "couldn't go" while on vacation and that I should suggest black licorice, or a glass of warm water, as these usually helped her.

I had a bad feeling about all of this.  I couldn't bring up this topic at all to a man who would be incapable of having this sort of discussion. And, I knew how horrified he would be that my mother knew. He was going to be angry and I'd, without saying a word, managed to air his sad little secret. There was no way that I was going to give her suggestions. That would be like admitting that I discussed all of this with my mother.  Even though I totally didn't, or at least didn't mean to. So, bad situation all around, but not horrible, because eventually the dude would have to poop and his mood would improve and I could just block out the entire exchange with my mother and no one would be the wiser.

Fat Chance!  When I turned my back for a moment my mother must have gotten him alone, implied that I had explained his problem (Did Not, not that he believed me) and gave him her pointers himself. So, Ex, while all blocked up and in a nasty mood had a conversation he wouldn't choose to have at the best of times with anyone, no less with my mother while under the assumption that I had orchestrated it, or participated. Fun!  I, of course, was confronted and just could not think of a way out of the situation.  I swore that I never once told my mother, or anyone else, for that matter, that he needed emptying.  Technically, this was true, but it didn't look good for me. But, I figured, he'd have to go soon, be in a better mood and how long could he all all of this against me. Now, my mouth gets me in trouble all the time.  This time, it managed to get me in trouble and I avoided the whole subject. I didn't actually discuss it with anyone, my mom put the pieces together on her own. I'm pretty sure that what happened next was because she continued to talk about it.

The next day, Ex leaves the beach in the afternoon while we're all sunning and swimming and hopes to end his (he wished) private misery.  But, shortly after he leaves my brother, sister-in-law and cousin head back to the townhouse for lunch and got sidetracked by the horrible programming known as daytime television. By the time Ex gets out of the bathroom, feeling successful and empty and secure in the knowledge that he's home alone, he walks down the hall to a standing ovation and cheers that he "finally dropped the kids off at the pool."  (That would be courtesy of my class-act brother.)

He refused to join us for more than a day or two of my family's vacations after that.  I can't imagine why.