Seventeen beach hippies

Growing up, our family always vacationed with lots of friends and family, always at the beach. We'd pile into minivans and drive through the night to the Florida pan-handle, ready to spend the week camped out (oh my gosh, NOT literally. EW.) in the white sand, getting sunburnt beyond recognition, buying loads of tie-dyed coverups and bonding like whoa.

This year, after an eight-year hiatus, we hit the beach again. Seventeen of us bunked up in a house right on the beach and settled in for delightful times.

We set up the traditional beach shanty and in between sips of boozed-up Arnold Palmers, we sailed, kayaked and boogie-boarded the days away. Our most vocally-talented member knocked the snot out of some townies at kareoke (metaphorically, you know). The "kids" (now all 21+ (ok, fine, ++)) taught our parents flippy cup and I will thank my lucky stars for the rest of my days that there were no cameras out that night.

Every minute was superfun (and I'm not just saying that because for the first time in my whole life, I didn't get sunburnt at the beach), but the highlight was our twilight beach photo shoot, complete with matching tie-dyed shirts, courtesy of my sister.

Overwhelming, isn't it? (in a good way)

Of course, it soon became Jump Picture Fest 2011. 

Wheeee!

Nice air, Hubs!

Clearly ahead of my time.

Do you vacation in bulk? Have you ever taught your parents a drinking game? Have you ever seen a better looking group of tie-dye-wearing homies? I didn't think so.