Ah, yes! There is nothing more excruciating than remembering the nightmare vacation my children and I took with a man my children refer to as "Uncle Butt." It is like walking down a Memory Lane laden with glass, and I'm barefoot. I wince at every step that reminds me of those seven days that lasted an eternity.

A nightmare vacation begins the minute you realize you are going to be stuck for the next seven days with someone you cannot stand. What seemed like a great idea a week before, now makes you wish you had chosen to keep that proctologist appointment that week instead of going anywhere. It was a frigid December day when I got the bright idea to plan for a Disneyworld vacation. My children and I were both off for the Christmas break and would have a week left after the holiday, but my husband could not go due to work. He suggested I go ahead and take the kids and he would hold down the fort at home. It was cold, and the thought of being somewhere warm was great, so I took him up on the offer.

It was during the twenty hour drive to Orlando that I got the bright idea to invite an old family friend to meet us down there. I hadn't seen him in years, but I figured it would be a great time for us to catch up. Now, one might think that the twenty hour drive with a three year old and a six year old would be nightmare enough. Truthfully, the screaming that lasted from our hometown to Valdosta, GA, (approximately twelve hours) would be forgotten during the horrors that were to come.

Uncle Butt arrived at the airport and I looked around for him. All I could see was a 400 pound man who looked like he hadn't washed since Clinton was in office. Once I realized it was him, I went to hug him and that clinched it. I wasn't sure when he bathed last, but it wasn't recently. Unfortunately, the kids were not as diplomatic as I was and the minute he climbed into my bucket seat, my daughter said, "Mommy? What's that smell? It smells like butt." Hence, the name.

I had booked a two bedroom condo at the resort, thinking that it would be plenty of room for all of us. In my imagination, it was going to be like an old family reunion. In reality, it was more like being stuck in a cheese factory - a very, very old, stinky cheese factory that also manufactured dirty socks. The spacious accommodations suddenly seemed very small.

It only took me ten minutes to realize that this was going to be a very long vacation. At Disney he complained the entire time. He couldn't

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