One day over break, my mom asked me a hypothetical question about where I would want to go on… One day over break, my mom asked me a hypothetical question about where I would want to go on vacation this summer — the last summer vacation I will take before I become a “real person” after graduation.

I answered almost instantly and told her that this summer, I would want nothing more than to travel to the Jersey Shore.

Like observing wild animals of the Serengeti on a Kenyan safari, I want to see in person the curious creatures by which MTV has so profited with its newest trash-tastic reality television venture, “Jersey Shore.”

My inner monologue would likely go something like this:

“Crikey! As you can see, a particularly stunning member of the Snookius Guidetticus family is on her way to the tanning salon to prep for the mating ritual that will commence this evening, as it does every night at the local boardwalk watering holes. Notice the height of the ‘poof,’ or large mound of hair, on the center of her head. The size of the ‘poof’ is directly related to how proud the Snookius Guidetticus is feeling today …”

When the previews for “Jersey Shore” started airing in November, I don’t think I was the only one skeptical about the show. Guys and girls who look like they came straight from the “My New Haircut” YouTube video, I thought to myself. No, thank you.

But then the show premiered, and I got swept up with the rest of the nation in Shore Fever. For the first time since, well, the last season of “Real World,” the entire country was united in laughing at a rag-tag group of reality television misfits.

These kids, however, happen to get their kicks by fist-pumping and hair-gelling, and suddenly, MTV has a runaway hit on its hands.

Today, Nicole “Snooki” Polizzi, Mike “The Situation” Sorrentino and the rest of the self-proclaimed guidos and guidettes have captured the pop culture heart of America.

The viewership has more than doubled since its 1.38 million-viewer premiere, and the cast seems intent on drawing out their 15 minutes of fame for as long as possible.

Snooki and Ronnie Magro have both admitted to having sex tapes, though Snooki denies that she would ever shop hers around, despite a projected price of up to $3 million, as estimated by Vivid Entertainment founder Steven Hirsch.

Sure, Snooki will perform thong-exposing cartwheels at a bar and simultaneously mack on four guys while drunk in a hot tub on national television, but let people see a sex tape she has already admitted to owning? Never!

Part of what makes “Jersey Shore” so fun (albeit, guiltily fun) is the response it has garnered from the media.

Italian-American groups are outraged by the casually offensive depiction of Italian heritage, citing “guido” and “guidette” as derogatory terms.

Sure, they might have an etymologically questionable past, but can’t these groups just accept the show and the cast as the jokes the rest of the country understands that they are?

Advertisers have pulled ads left and right, leading to this lovely statement from Snooki:

“I just have one thing to say to Domino’s, Dell, UNICO and all the other haters out there: F*** you! If you don’t want to watch, don’t watch. Just shut the hell up! I’m serious … F*** you!”

In response, at least Domino’s proved that it kind of gets the joke:

“Our first response was, ‘What a classy young lady — her parents must be so proud.’ There’s no need to get into a war with this young girl, because tick-tock, her 15 minutes are almost up.”

Ultimately, this should be the attitude that the entire viewing nation should take when indulging in this beyond-guilty pleasure.

The “Shore” is a fleeting fad, not unlike many other MTV reality sensations. Sure, tourism rates will probably spike this summer at Seaside Heights, and fist-pumping will remain an ironic display of pop culture awareness for a few more months, but a year or two from now, no one will remember what laughable tools these kids are.

Does anyone remember “Laguna Beach”? Stephen Colletti, are you out there?

So my advice is to enjoy “Jersey Shore” for what it is, and don’t think too hard about how The Situation can make not being invited to chicken cutlet night a serious threat.

Take it with a grain of salt, or in this case, a particularly large glob of Pauly D’s hair gel.