What: Seven day cruise.
Where: Bermuda and The Bahamas.
Who: Here are the five vacationers:

Sister: Married three years. Mom to 16-month-old. Pregnant again. Vomits multiple times a day and tells the rest of us about it, like us boys care. Husband doesn’t speak. We think it’s by choice or maybe he can’t get a word in. Good mom except that she shuts off the lights and hides in the cabin’s bathroom as a ploy to force the baby to fall asleep. Moral: Deceive your kids to get them to do what you want. Some day the kid is gonna hide her medication. She thinks she’s really smart. She picked this ship. The food sucked. That’s right, she picked a cruise ship with food that sucked which is virtually impossible. I saw fat people on the deck crying after one lunch. Then the genius put my cabin adjoining her cabin so the baby could wake me and Dad up at 6 a.m.! Thanks genius. Next time she wants me to do something for her, I’m gonna hide in the bathroom when the phone rings.

Brother-in-law: Good egg. Very patient. Well, he did marry my sister. Will go along with brother-in-law hijinks. Says like, ten words a day. You know the phrase, Speak when spoken to? He’s the guy. At dinner, if there’s silence, don’t expect him to be livening things up: “Hey, how about that Kim Jong, what a character!” Forget it. He will talk baby-talk to the baby. Sometimes I’m kind of afraid that’s all he knows. You get better dialogue out of the GPS in your car. Grew up on a farm. Loves meat. Looks like he’s in good shape—but could be dead by 40 from clogged arteries—from all the meat. Also loves Diet Coke. Meat and Diet Coke. Nice diet. Probably hasn’t taken a good dump since 1982.

Dad: 81-years-old. Last summer, quadruple bypass surgery. Gets tired fast doing anything, with the exception of asking when I’m getting married. For this he has the strength and vitality of Samson on Viagra. Cannot see so well, but if there’s a gin game, he kills you so bad, you’ll think he’s wearing X-ray-vision glasses and can see your cards. Can’t hear so well, unless I’m sneaking into the cabin at 1 a.m. Then he’s got better hearing than The Bionic Man. Never ever sleeps well. Ever. Not one day in 81 years. Funny thing though, we go to the movies, out cold. We sit on the deck, out cold. I wake up in the middle of the night, he’s snoring like Rip Van Winkle. “How’d ya sleep Dad?” “Terribly.” Yeah, okay.

Nephew: Age: 16 months. Says like three words (which is three more than his daddy). The words are Meps, Bep, and Bop. Occasionally you’ll get a Grandpa and a Mama out of him. I jokingly called him Meps and then got yelled at because my sister thinks that the baby will think his name is Meps. Apparently he’s a little slow too. I think Meps means, “I see you hiding in the bathroom, stupid face.” ALWAYS gets his way. He eats, we eat. He sleeps, Mom and Dad sleep. Uncle Lenny is sooooo onto him. He can’t even walk and he’s calling the shots. I’m this close to putting itchy powder in his diaper. Likes to point and smile for no reason. I’m telling you, he’s deranged.

Lenny: Anti-social comedian. Lives on Yankees baseball and potato chips—neither of which you could find on the cruise. Loves his family but may commit suicide if he vacations alone with them again. Left alone after family eats at 6pm and goes to sleep at 9pm. Definitely relaxed on the trip because he did NOTHING. Forced to watch "Fun with Dick and Jane" in the ship's cinema. Review: No fun with either. Likes the dilapidated, chachke-selling islands like he likes the French. Hugged the doorman when he returned to Manhattan. Thrilled to have a pillow not made out of iron.