Except for the years when we were stationed overseas, our military family has always taken a summer vacation at an old beach cottage in North Carolina. Through the years, it’s been a fun way for extended family and old friends to reunite with us, since we lived in so many different places. However, the “fun” sometimes felt like harassment.

“Whose are THESE?” I recall my sister-in-law saying with a laugh while holding up a large pair of underwear from a basket of warm laundry. Voices rang out from around the cottage. “Whoa! Not mine!” came from the couch. “Me neither!” broadcasted from the staircase. “Mine aren’t THAT big!” emanated from the hallway.

“Uh, yeah,” I had to admit sheepishly, “those are mine, thank you very much.” I claimed my stack of folded clothes and slinked off to my roo

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