shall I summarize lake powell?

: Firstly, a week in a bathing suit?
Let's just say that I have a renewed determination to hit the gym and cease pizza-scarffing.  Which I guess is good?  Although part of me is like, forget motivational bathing suit trips, I need to find some unfit homies to vacation with!  Then I can simply enjoy the illusion of fitness.  [If you're reading this just to correct my grammar because I'm an English teacher, here's my edit: with whom to vacation. But sometimes correct usage seems stuffy, so allow me to abandon it?]

: Food:
We believe in abandoning all self-respect while at Lake Powell.  So, the only real standing rule is this: no chocolate before 9:00 a.m.  [Did I mention my renewed determination started after getting home?  As is the pattern with all healthy, procrastinated mindsets.]
At one point my brother, Paul, pounded four KitKats in a row and then bellowed at me to toss him another!  [Which I'm pretty sure I did.]  That same brother downed a gargantuan bag of hi-chews during a game of Monopoly.  Later, my sister was relaying the event to my mom, saying, "Paul ate like twenty-five hi-chews!"  Paul heard this and promptly corrected: "I believe the term you were looking for was at least twenty-five hi-chews."
We really were savage.  Candy bars were being dipped in Nutella, Red Vines were being eaten for no reason (because as far as I'm concerned every time a Red Vine is eaten, it's for no reason.  Who really likes those?), water was replaced with soda, etcetera.

: People:
We went with a delightful group of humans.  My sister and brother brought friends and I commend their friend-picking skills.  You know how normally on a trip with 10+ people, there's at least one person you wish you could vote off?  Well, not this trip.  I wanted to keep them all.

Semi-related story: during a past Powell trip, we were getting ready to head back to the Marina and emptied out all the unnecessary liquids and food items to lessen the hassle.  A few minutes into the return trip, the wind really picked up and we were forced to turn around.  We were stranded for another night, but had rid ourselves of the food/beverage supply.  Someone joked about how we might have to eat one of the crew members.  Joke or not, our eyes all landed on the same boy: a truly irksome nine-year-old that had a knack for whining.  It's like we were all assessing how many meals he was worth.

: And now, a tragedy:
We were the first family to use the houseboat this season and found that some birds had built a nest in shading curtains.  When we moved the boat, the mama bird was startled and flew off, leaving the baby. Because we changed locations, she was unable to relocate us.  So we were left with a baby bird incapable of providing for itself.  Before I continue, a picture:

It was actually rather homely, with it's old-man hair, but my dad's a softy for all things animal.  So he took it upon himself to save the bird.  He concocted a dripping device to give it water, researched what type of food it might eat [after being ridiculed by us for feeding it turkey, it's cousin], and made a nest/lounging area for the bird in a plastic bin.  And he named it.  Are you ready for this?

Chirpy-chirp.  But really.  That's what he called it.

Annnnyway...we noticed a Raven circling our boat, so my dad was careful to cover the bird before we left anywhere.  He was seriously attached to this little guy and would check on him after every boat trip.  As you've probably guessed, a tragic scene met us after one particular boat ride.

The bird was nowhere to be seen.  And feathers littered the deck.

It's almost so tragic as to be funny, no?  Or am I a sadist?
Oh, shit, I'm sensing you think the latter.  Okay, I take it back!  Not funny.  Zero funny!  Please don't tell PETA.  And let's just move on:

: Lastly, Bailey-style family turmoil:
Q peed on Paul.  Paul did not take this particularly well because the same thing happened last year, and he had been clear about his I-don't-like-being-peed-on stance.  [Is it odd that you have to have a stance on that in my family?  Like, we don't just assume you don't like being peed on?].  So Paul was justifiably upset and familial tension ensued.  The only reason I share this episode with you is because I have a hunch you'll like how things played out.

After some bitter bargaining, a deal was struck between the brothers.  Paul would forgive Q, if Q let him urinate on his person for ten seconds.  Once the deal was stuck, Paul began chugging Diet Cokes to prepare himself.

Once ready, and in the name of family redemption, they marched onto the beach.  Paul began to pee and Q had to step into the stream and remain stationary for the allotted time.

And now you know how my family resolves conflict.