Sleepless in Isla Mujeres

Jessica in the airport on the way home looking well-rested.

Jessica in the airport on the way home looking well-rested.

Excerpt from Jane's world

Recently I slept with my daughter for a whole week—thankfully not in the same bed, but next to each other in the same room. And “slept” is perhaps too strong a word for what I did.

For her 40th birthday, I’d given Jessica a choice of joining me for a week of backpacking or a week-long vacation to Isla Mujeres, Mexico. Before I finish my sentence, she yelled, “Isla Mujeres!” The trip would be a grand celebration for Jessica and me, some much-needed, quality mother-and-daughter time.

It was a long day of travel. We had to leave Jessica’s house for Milwaukee’s Mitchell Airport at 2:00 a.m. because the airline told us to arrive three hours early for international flights. We were the only two people in the airport that early with luggage. Luckily, I remembered the airport had a ping-pong table, and I coerced Jessica into playing a few games. She wasn’t nearly as excited as I was about playing ping-pong in the airport in the wee hours of the morning.

Several hours later, after landing in Cancún, we hopped in a taxi which took us to the ferry. Arriving on Isla, we walked about a mile to our hotel, with our carry-on bags rolling behind us. Immediately Jessica claimed the double bed as hers for the week, leaving me with the single bed. We unpacked enough to get out our swimsuits, and off to the beach we went.

Isla Mujeres has a lovely beach called Playa Norte, where we hung out all afternoon. That first evening we dined on freshly caught fish and shrimp. We were exhausted when we finally climbed up the flight of steps to our hotel room. Jess said goodnight and climbed into her bed. I lay reading in my bed awhile, then turned off my light.

Within seconds, I heard what I thought was a train. I was suddenly wide awake. It took a moment to realize it was my 40-year-old, my only child, snoring like a 90-year-old truck driver! I tried to wake her. It was then that I noticed she was wearing a black mask that made her look like Zorro and earplugs in her ears. She mumbled, “What’s the problem?”

I yelled, "You! You're snoring. Can I have your earplugs?"

"No," she answered. "I've been sleeping with earplugs and this mask for three years now. Just go to bed." Quality time was not happening at this moment. 

Originally Published December 22nd, 2016 in the Crawford County Independent & Kickapoo Scout