Day 1:
Ugh, this is a disaster already. Mom and Dad decided we needed a "family bonding experience" so here we are, crammed into the rusty minivan with my little brother, Greg. We're heading to "Camp Fun-Time," whatever that is. I'm not sure what's worse, the fact that it's called Fun-Time or the fact that Dad insisted we wear matching "Camp Fun-Time" t-shirts. I wouldn't be surprised if Mom made us sing camp songs on the way there.
The car ride was about as fun as watching paint dry. Greg wouldn't stop asking "Are we there yet?" and Mom kept making me play that "guess the animal sound" game. The only thing worse than that game is my stomach. It's already starting to rumble.
Day 2:
Camp Fun-Time is even worse than I imagined. First of all, it's not a camp at all. It's a cabin in the middle of nowhere, and it looks like it hasn't been cleaned since the dinosaurs roamed the earth. The only thing fun about this place is the giant spider I found in the bathroom.
Mom and Dad are determined to have a "fun" time. We spent the whole day playing board games they bought at a roadside shop. They're all super lame. Greg keeps whining about the "unfairness" of Monopoly and I'm pretty sure Mom is going to lose it if she hears "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star" one more time.
Day 3:
Things actually got worse today. My phone died, so I'm completely cut off from the outside world. I'm trapped in this wilderness with no way to contact my friends. And Dad's been trying to teach us how to fish. He's the worst teacher ever. We're all sitting by the lake, and the only thing we caught was a really big, smelly fish that Greg threw back in.
Day 4:
I was hoping things would get better, but I was wrong. We're all starting to get sick. Greg has the sniffles, Mom has a headache, and Dad is coughing like he's trying to clear his throat after swallowing a whole grapefruit. I'm not feeling great myself, but at least I'm not the only one suffering.
Day 5:
Things are getting really bad. The cabin is starting to smell like a dumpster fire. Mom is on the verge of a meltdown, and Dad is already a complete mess. Greg, on the other hand, seems to be enjoying it all. He's spending his time collecting bugs and running around with his bare feet. This is starting to feel like a nightmare.
Day 6:
We're finally leaving. The car ride home is silent, except for the occasional coughing and sniffling. I'm so glad to be leaving this place. I never want to see another campfire or sing another camp song ever again.
Day 7:
I'm back home, and my room has never looked so good. I'm so happy to be back in my own bed. This "family bonding experience" was anything but. It was a complete bummer vacation. I think I'll stick to my room from now on.