Girls Weekend

As the youngest of four girls within six years, my sisters and I are all very close. This wasn’t always the case, there was plenty of clothes and boyfriend stealing, as you can imagine, but as we’ve gotten older and more mature (ha ha), we’ve become best friends.

I would like to preemptively state that my sisters and I, and our mother, are a bunch of loose cannons. We are all proud and loud women, saying whatever crosses our minds. There aren’t a lot of filters between us. We tease and joke, ribbing each other mercilessly, but all in good fun. There is always laughter when we are together, whether it’s just a couple of us, or the whole gang. We love each other and respect each other, as I believe families should. We all share the same sense of humor, slightly dirty and probably highly inappropriate to outsiders. Growing up in a house with five women, your sense of personal space and privacy can get diminished daily, and you need to be able to laugh at yourself. Otherwise, you have no room to laugh at anyone else.

One inside joke I would like to share involves all of us crazy women. One of my sisters was getting married and my mother decided to take us all away for a spa weekend. We arrived at the hotel, which was gorgeous. Our mother had booked us a suite so we could all be together. There was alcohol involved, as there usually is when we get together. We had partaken of cocktails when we arrived and gone down to the pool for a few hours before dinner. Back in the room, as we were getting ready to go out, I lifted up my shirt, Girls Gone Wild style, and exclaimed “Girls Weekend!” However, what I hadn’t realized, was that I had also lifted my bikini top and flashed my girls at my sisters and mother. We all laughed so hard and now, whenever we’re all together, we yell out “Girls Weekend!”

Thankfully, none of us feel the need to flash our breasts. We get the reference.

I’ve told this story to my daughter and she was mortified to imagine this happening to her. As my only daughter, she doesn’t get that there’s no shame or modesty among us. Why should I be embarrassed that my sisters’ saw my breasts? We’ve all seen each other’s everything over the years. They are my sisters, and my mother. If I can’t be comfortable around them, who can I be comfortable around?

The second inside joke I’d like to share involved dinner that night. After we’d finished getting dressed, we were downstairs waiting for our driver (we were being responsible) With five of us, we’d called for a van so we could ride together. A big black van pulled up, we piled in, and proceeded to bombard the poor driver the entire way to the restaurant with questions concerning the show 'The A Team", because the van reminded us of the show. He was from out of the country and had no idea what we were talking about but he was a good sport about it. I’m sure he was relieved to drop us off, but he did give us his card so we could call him when we were done. After dinner and drinks, we went outside to call him. My sister dialed the number and when he answered, she said “Hey, it’s Jen”, like they were friends. For some reason, this struck me as hilarious, and I burst out laughing. “He doesn’t know you!” I cried, and the rest joined in the laughter.

Whenever we’re together and Jen calls someone new, one of us will say “Hey, it’s Jen” and we crack up.

Years later, we still talk about how much fun that weekend was. My sister Jen moved back to upstate New York. My mother and one of my sisters moved to the east coast of Florida, while my other sister and I remained in place. We don’t all get together as much as we would like, but the bond is there regardless of location. My sisters and mother are my closest friends and always be.

I love you crazy ladies. Girls Weekend!