Christmas And My Dad's Balls

So there I was watching my dads balls flop around as he ran up the beach and made his way to the stage where he would later be declared a “winner”. It was my first time being drunk, and I’m thankful I wasn’t purely sober for this horrific scene. I loved Mexico and I loved Christmas, but that year those two things did not mix well. Let’s rewind and take a look at how this moment was born back in 2008.

My parents had decided that our family should take a cruise for Christmas. It sounded fun in theory, but we came to find out that none of us like cruises. I’m not sure if it was the events that occurred during the cruise that led us to this level of enlightenment, or if it was being crammed into miniature doll house rooms. We all longed for the open air, so when it came time to get off the ship in Cancun, we wasted no time. We filed out of the cruise ship and headed for the beach. My cousin and I were just 16 at the time. I had never drank alcohol before, and I wasn’t planning to start on Christmas. We cozied up under the sun as our parents headed to the bar. A waiter came down and asked us what we would like to drink. We ordered some Virgin Strawberry Daiquiris. I’m not sure if the waiter didn’t speak English, or if he thought it would be fun to watch some minors get wasted, but the Daiquiris were experience, not Virgin, Daiquiris. We sipped them down when the first of my problems suddenly came on.

“Dad, dad there’s something wrong with my eyes!” I called out. My dad turned away from my Uncle to look at me. He leaned down and tilted his glasses up to the top of his shiny head. He raised his eyebrows and said “Oh my god, you’re drunk!” He began to laugh and I replied “No, I’m not! We ordered virgin drinks!” I felt accused, but no one else was concerned about it. He handed me his glasses and said “Here, this will make your eyes feel better, just lay down and relax.” My cousin got up and was enjoying her buzz, running around the beach swaying and falling over dramatically. I got up to follow her around and at one point we ordered some more “Virgin” Daquiris.

Some time had passed, and our parents were feeling pretty good. On the beach there was a small stage where they hosted competitions for everyone’s entertainment. My parents entered this competition, which ended up with them dancing on stage. At first it was cute, and they kept winning as others got voted off. That’s when things took a turn. The next part of the competition was for the couples to run off the stage, down to the water, and switch swimsuit bottoms. I sat on a beach chair with my cousin and my little brother watching things unravel. My parents ran down laughing and staggering, and switched bottoms under the water. My mom came out of the water first. She looked cute in my dads swim trunks. Then, my dad came out from the water. He had put the thin bikini bottoms on sideways, meaning that nothing was covered. He ran from out of the water as it spewed off from the sides of his legs. He began to run up the beach. Me and my bother looked horrified as we saw our fathers balls bouncing around out of the bikini. My brother commented on it, and I tried to look away. Everything is embarrassing at 16. The good news is that my parents won the competition. The bad news is that they won a bottle of tequila.

Now my dad is part Native American, and he doesn’t handle certain types of liquor very well. Tequila is unfortunately one of them. My father and uncle took shots after shots of the tequila, and we realized it was time to go back to the cruise ship.

We all got onto this tiny dingy boat, where a sweet Mexican father and his son were driving people across. This was the only way to get back to the cruise ship, as this boat would take you from one shore to the main shore where then you could get back on the cruise ship. In my fathers drunken state, he could not accept this fact, and thought the boat driver was taking us the wrong way on purpose. My father began to yell with what was left of his raspy, depleted voice at the driver. We tried to calm him down, but he was irrational. The boat began to sway back and fourth, and I was afraid that my dad was going to fall in and drown. “Dad, sit down!” We all tried to calm him, but he kept yelling. I looked out across the ocean to where my father was pointing and saw a ship on the horizon. That was our cruise ship! It looked so small in the vast ocean, but it was the place we were calling home for the rest of the week. My dad put his hands up together, making a vulgar sign to the driver and calling him names. We were all so embarrassed, and hung our heads apologizing as we got off the dingy onto the main shore. I’m pretty sure my mother tipped him heavily with all of her pesos.

As we were making our way back to the cruise ship to prepare for a nice Christmas dinner, my uncle said “Hey, I’m taking your dad to sober up for a bit. We will meet you guys back at the ship.” We all knew this was a bad idea, but there was no arguing at this point, we just had to wait and see what would unfold. So as the story goes, they made their way to another bar to sober up with some beers. My father, who is a small man, attempted to arm wrestle the bartender. He lost, and told the bar tender that he wanted a rematch with his left hand. The bartender said no, and my dad began hurling insults at him, getting them kicked out of the bar. My uncle said “Ok, let’s go outside and I’ll wrestle you on the grass.” My uncle is a very large man, outweighing my father by probably 50 pounds. Maybe 60, because as I recall, this was at the peak of his “cruise ship weight,” which we bring up often to refer to the time he was a bit too chubby. So with this extra weight my uncle carried, things weren’t looking good for my dad. As they wrestled about, my dad fell into the prickly bushes and became covered in miniature scrapes all over his body. The local police came and told them to sit down. My father resisted, and they said “Sir, if you don’t sit down we will call the Federali.” Naturally, my father did not sit down and the Federali came in with their large guns slung across the shoulders. My father made his first good choice of the day, and sat down this time while my Uncle ended up paying them off with about 400 dollars.

Back on the cruise ship, we were all worried about the boys. The ship was about to depart, and they would be left there in Cancun if they didn’t make it back in time. My mother kept calling them, but no response. Finally, we saw them coming for the ship at the last second. Unfortunately, they were in worse condition than before. They boarded the ship and we were so relieved to have them back. At this point, my father decided to go for a swim in the pool. He dove in, and began swimming laps, bulldozing over some small children who seemed more like obstacles to him, or possibly buoys. My mother watched worriedly and apologized to the families who were simply trying to enjoy their vacation. When my dad decided he was finished swimming, he tried to get out on the side of the pool. He placed his palms on the edge and pushed up. Maybe he had used all of his strength before trying to fight everyone, because he plummeted back into the water. My mother recalls that he tried this about ten times before he was able to make it out. My parents went back to their room where my dad fell asleep for some time. While my mom was with us, my dad locked her out of the room and continued to sleep. None of us were in Christmas dinner attire, so we wanted to change into our fancy clothes because we had a reservation at a very nice restaurant on our cruise ship.

My mom tried to get in, but the door was locked. We tried to wake my dad from his drunken slumber, but there was no hope. So in our beach clothes, we walked down to the lobby and met up with our whole family. My grandparents who do not drink alcohol were there, and we had to explain to them that we will not be able to go to Christmas dinner. Defeatedly, we walked up to the pizza shop. We ordered our pizzas and sat around the cold, uninviting metal tables. We looked around at each other with not much to say as we knew what a disappointment this Christmas was.

The next morning, we all went to brunch. My father came down a bit late with bags under his eyes and scrapes all over his arms. He looked something like an apologetic puppy who just shredded the sofa. He said “Uh, sorry about yesterday” as he pulled his chair and and sat down. He couldn’t remember what had happened on Christmas, but he knew that he messed up big time. Now every year we tell this story around the table and laugh about it, but in that moment on the cruise ship it was best not to mention it. I don’t think we will every take a cruise again, and my father certainly won’t drink tequila. Surprisingly after these events, I continued to drink alcohol. Even tequila.