The invitation was irresistible: "Wanna join us on Nantucket Island this summer?" Of course we said yes. We had always wanted to go there, and close friends were doing the asking. Then I did the math. Six adults and seven children would be sharing a four-bedroom house. We weren't going on vacation. We were forming a commune. Survivors of such experiments had warned us about feuding spouses, clashing parenting styles and conflicting itineraries. But they had also rhapsodized about the chance to reconnect with old friends or get to know new ones, the fun of cooking for a crowd, the guarantee...
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