Family vacations are where boundaries go to get some rest, and nothing exposes generational differences quite like the logistics of travel. Somehow, a new baby, a still-recovering mom, a bleary-eyed dad, a mother-in-law with the tact of a foghorn, and a full-size German Shepherd were all supposed to cohabitate in a shared hotel room, as if postpartum privacy and dog dander are compatible bedmates. This was not so much a vacation as a recipe for a TLC reality show.

Mother-in-laws have a special knack for dismissing other people’s comfort as vague complaints. Why consult the new parents about their sleeping or feeding needs when you could just book the «family experience» package, adult son, wife, infant, grandma, and canine in one double-queen room designed for sleep-deprived chaos? Naturally, when it turned out the new mom had the ‘audacity’ to want her own bed, a functioning bra, and a slice of sanity, out came the guilt trip that’s still recurring three years later, now with added sarcasm for every family visit.