Ways You Know My Parents Are Related To Me

I may not have said this before but my gift of constantly getting into random mishaps likely comes from my parents. I come by it honestly. And apparently it's genetic (sorry future children!).

Case in point: In the last year, my dad had a rental property both flood and catch on fire simulataneously. While my mother has been tortured for several weeks by a bird she lovingly refers to as "Bang Poop" because this bird has decided to bang it's head repeatedly on practically every window in my parent's home, early in the mornings for no apparent reason. And as if being woken up by that every day isn't annoying enough, every time the bird hits it's head -

it poops down the window.

These are the things that happen to my parents. And I got to see all of our powers combined this past weekend when I went to stay with them for Memorial Day.

My parents recently got into camping in a trailor they bought last year, so I stayed with them in Pigeon Forge in an RV campground. When I arrived, I was already sporting two bandaids on my right side from having two more moles removed unexpectedly earlier that day (thankfully at a different dermy than the one I used here, but not an incredibly pleasant experience nonetheless).

Over the course of three days, I ended up with two bandaids, a vasoline covered arm, benadryl covered insect bites down my leg, and a swolen bruise on my ankle. Meanwhile, my father got a blood blister and cuts all over his ankle as well.

Not surprising at all.

But what was really a perfect example of my family's luck was - my bed.

The camper has one bedroom and two hidden bed things in the living area. I was to sleep on the couch one but it's mattress had recently popped.

So we got another one.

That one also started leaking air making me a half-girl, half-mattress burrito by morning.

So we got another one.

That one ended up being too big for the dimensions of the bed, forcing me to sleep on the mattress propped up the wall on one side, causing it to slope downward to my side.

So we got another one.

And this one fit perfectly! I felt like Goldilocks finally eating the right porridge and I get up the next day, the day we leave the campground and go back to my parents' house an hour away, and--

the bed won't deflate.

I have no idea if my parents ended up getting another one after that, but that whole scenario is just so typical of us.  At least I know I'm not adopted.....