Looking back over a lifetime of warm memories of family vacations at the beach, I am struck by how often they have little to do with the beach. More often, they’re all about cousins.

Crammed around a long table that was meant to accommodate eight but can seat 16 because we really like each other. Escaping the oversight of stern elders by sneaking off together to walk on the shore after dark, or biking down to a corner market to buy a Pepsi and peanuts. Cousins who, despite seeing each other only once or twice a year (if that), once thrown into each other’s company by their parents, immediately stick to each other like sand on wet skin.

There are the stories that I’ve heard at least 20 times that get us laughing all over again. Like the time a gaggle of youngsters decided to put on a tale

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