"Did you pack the shampoo, mom?"
"No! I knew I would forget something. Can you quickly grab it for me?"
I turned and sprinted up the stairs of my family's two-story house. It was a nice house, painted a yellowish-cream with blue trim. The lack of trees accented its newness, and the way everything from the mailbox to the shed were color-coordinated shoed that I had one of those perfect families.
The house itself was placed in a nice neighborhood in Merton, Wisconsin. It was a small town. I got used to saying I lived near Milwaukee when people questioned my location. But it was home.
I packed the shampoo with the rest of my families necessities in the back of our black minivan. Just look at the van once and you'll know its purpose. That van was our transportation for the family vacation.
That year my family was staying at the North Woods Resort in Woodruff, Wisconsin. For some people, including myself, going up north and doing nothing for a week was boring. Any normal fifteen-year-old girl would rather go shopping. But that year would be different. My cousins were going to be there.
Don't let their last name fool you. The Smith's were far from average. Aaron, the oldest child, was the same age as my sister Kelly. He seemed to find everything she did funny, but at the age of eleven, being a tomboy was considered cool.
Nathan was two years younger and fifty pounds heavier than Aaron was. He's what one would call the "football type." Matthew was a lot like Nathan, just younger. They used each other for punching bags more than anything else.
And no one could forget little Sadie. Actually, you probably could. She was your average adorable four-year-old besides the fact that she didn't talk to anyone except her family and a few friends. I predict she'll be a shy adult, but she'll have three big brothers to help her out.
The Smiths were our closest cousins, and my family and I always got along well with them. I knew that week would be different from past vacations.
"Say your last good-byes, you won't see the house for a week," my dad called one last time before starting the packed van and rolling down the cement driveway.
I watched landscapes pass me outside the window for the first few miles, preparing myself for the five-hour drive. I brought plenty of entertainment, but I decided to sleep the whole way instead.
The ride seemed shorter than the year before, and soon I found myself at the resort, waiting to check in. It was a nice little place with about six cabins and a bar. There was also a swing-set, sandbox, volleyball net, and basketball court. They were probably there so we didn't go insane while so far from civilization.
My ten-year-old sister, Shannon, noticed that each cabin was given a different tree name. She also saw that one cabin was named "Red Wood." Shannon shrieked, "Oh! I want the Red Wood Cabin!"
"Yeah!" I agreed. My sisters and I loved the band Hanson. In their first video, Tulsa, Tokyo, and the Middle of Nowhere, the oldest Hanson, Isaac, did a documentary on Red Wood trees.
My parents checked in, and it was time to check out our cabin. I was excited to learn that we were in the "Red Wood" cabin. That surprised me. I didn't think I was lucky enough.
The cabin was smaller than I expected, but it was nice. There was one bedroom that my parents would be staying in and a small bathroom next to it. The kitchen and the living room were on in the same, (hehe) with a table and couch almost right next to each other. Everything from the furniture to the kitchen utensils were old-fashioned, but I guess you couldn't expect much better. I was taller than the refrigerator, which took me awhile to get used to. I was short for my age and being taller than something like that was a new experience.
After our look at the cabin, we walked down the short wood-chip path to the small lake. It was the perfect time of day to see the sun reflecting off the water, giving it a glitter affect. We heard two loons in the distance and were surprised they were out at that time of day.
On our way back to the cabin, we noticed three sets of swimming trunks on a clothesline (which was a rope connected to two trees) at the cabin next to ours. "That must be where the Smith's are staying," my dad said.
We grabbed every last bag from the van and set them in the middle of the cabin's wooden floor. I hauled my bags to the dresser in the bedroom and claimed the first two drawers.
Soon the cabin was as organized as our hose; not a thing looked out of place. "What next?" my mom asked. Before anyone could answer, a few car doors slammed and six voiced were heard. The Smith's were back.
