It was my first trip to Europe, and it didn't begin quite how I had been picturing it since I was nine years old. I was currently eighteen, for one, and still traveling with my family. I really thought I'd be going with friends or maybe, if I had the nerve, on my own. I didn't think I'd be on a plane with my parents, my grandparents and my two little brothers. I tried to escape by wearing my shades and keeping plugged into my MP3 player, but, you see, it's my family. They cannot be unnoticed. They cannot seem to keep their cool. When my grandparents got busted joining the Mile High Club somewhere over the Atlantic, I knew I was doomed.
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