"You are my sunshine, my only sunshine, you make me happy... when I'm on vacay!"

Ahhhhhh vacation. Sweet vacation.

Brent surprised the hell out of me a few weeks ago when he randomly (it's always random with him) turned to me and said something along the lines of "I have a week's worth of vacation days I have to use by the end of March. See if you can find any deals in the Caribbean or something."

If I remember correctly, I don't think he finished that sentence before I flew to the computer to Google "Caribbean vacations."

Though that would have been ideal, I couldn't really find a cheap deal in the Caribbean on the off-season away from spring breakers. We're so too old for that. Or at least Brent is. So we went for the next best thing when one is looking for a cheap vacation filled with sunshine, beaches, and, most importantly, lots of tequila - Mexico.

Viva la Mexico!

We were relatively flexible regarding the dates of our vacation and exactly where we would go, but were firm that wherever that may be, it must be at an all-inclusive resort where the food and adult beverages would not only always be available, but also be free. Hello Cancun!

Once we decided where we were headed, we started making plans for what to do on our vacation - or rather, made a plan for our vacation.

The plan: Do nothing.

And I think we made good on our plan because our days while on vacation went something like this:

At some point before noon: Get up, put on bathing suits, head to breakfast buffet, and stuff ourselves up to the point where we could still waddle over to two lounge chairs by the "relaxing" pool away from all the screaming kids and resort games to lay out in the sun. Ask waitress to bring us alcohol.

If we felt like actually getting up ever: Go to snack bar to get nachos, fries, or burgers and grab another drink at the bar on the way back to the side of the pool - OR - hop into the pool to cool off and glide up to the swim-up bar to get said drink. We had options.

2 to 3 p.m.: Mosey on over to the outdoor lunch area between the two pools and ask grill lady to make us fajitas. Eat until stuffed again, grab another drink, and move back to lounge chairs.

5 p.m.: Head back to the room to change out of bathing suits and nap before heading to the "fancy" resort restaurant for dinner. (Read: the place had a menu and wasn't a buffet.)

7 p.m.: Have a nice, relaxing dinner complete with their amazing flan or warm apple crisp and cappuccinos for dessert.

8 p.m.: Smoke yet another Cuban cigar and drink yet another margarita or beer from the minibar while sitting on our fourth-floor balcony that overlooks both the pool area and the ocean and discuss our life, jobs, problems we're having, our family, plans for the future, etc. for hours until we decide to head to bed to get some sleep so we'll have the energy to relax all the day the next day.

Unfortunately, one day I decided to throw a wrench into our perfectly fine plan of doing nothing when I suggested that we, well, do something because of an extreme and weird coincidence that was too extreme and weird not to do something about it. My parents along with an aunt and an uncle (my mom's sister and her husband) happened to begin their vacation on our last day of vacation, and were staying 45 minutes away from our hotel in Cancun.

Though Brent accused me of setting this up (and if I could have set this up, go me, because that would have been a hell of a lot of scheming and plotting), I can honestly say that I vaguely remember my mom telling me she and my dad were planning a vacation for the end of February but I didn't know where they were going.

As luck would have it, a tiny town called Puerto Morelos is a semi-central meeting town between our respective hotels, so through some luck of our own, Brent and I boarded the right bus both to get to downtown Cancun and the one that would drop us off on the main highway about a mile and a half from the seaside town.

Though I was looking forward to the nice walk, Brent was less enthused to be wandering down a looooooong, empty stretch of road flanked on both sides by ditches leading to swampland.

So to pass the time, we started to try to one-up each other while pretending to be Bear Grylls on "Man vs. Wild" trying to survive in the jungles of Mexico. While Brent was explaining how to cook and eat tree bark, I was telling him that I could build a jungle bed out of mere twigs and some large leaves.

Turns out, we didn't need to survive in the wilderness nearly as long as Bear does on his TV show because about 10 minutes into our walk, a taxi whose driver was wildly honking the horn screeched to a halt ahead of us. Brent started grumbling that the driver was going to offer us a ride, but then my mom and aunt sprang out of the taxi and started running toward us. My Uncle Tom had spotted us walking, and thought we'd appreciate a ride to the town. But since there were too many of us for the ride, the girls decided we'd walk the rest of the way so we'd have time to catch up.

Once we reached the town, we found the guys had saved us three girls exactly three nachos (not three each, but exactly three chips) and were on their second round of beers.

After they finished, we wandered around the town and did some shopping before having an excellent Mexican dinner, complete with live music, prefaced by the hugest margaritas I've ever seen or drank. Then, of course, we needed to get ice cream and ended the evening with coffee before this time taking a taxi to the bus stop because even Bear Grylls rests from his adventures in the evenings.

Though my parents' and aunt and uncle's evening was definitely over - it was, like 9:30 p.m., after all - Brent and I got back to downtown Cancun and boarded a different bus to get dropped off in the heart of where all things Spring Break happen. In yet another extreme and weird coincidence, Brent's friend and colleague, Max, and his girlfriend, Lara, were flying into town to also begin their vacation on our last full day there.

After Brent and I had been drinking at Carlos n' Charlie's for about an hour, his friends met up and then began a whirlwind of three more hours, three more bars, one funny hat, and a countless number of beer and tequila to the point where whenever someone (one of the boys) would order another round, I'd take a sip from my beer and wait until Brent was nearly done with his, then make the switch. I just didn't want to be one of the girls at the table next to ours who were dancing to the music in their bras waving their shirts in the air. Not that I would ever be, but I also wanted to be sober-ish enough to be able to find the bus back to the hotel.

And we did with no problem, but since the room was spinning quite a lot by that point, I called for room service at 4 a.m. and enjoyed a pizza with tea before taking some aspirin and crossing my fingers that I wouldn't be hung over for the entire trip back home.

Ahhhhh. Vacation. So sweet.