Thursday was a full day. It really wasn’t supposed to be but that’s how it turned out. Despite our deliberate lack of planning and premeditated aggression towards anything programmed into our day as “intentional fun,” today turned into one of those vacation days where you’d like to lay the smack down on everyone in a 6 foot radius.
Grandma catches a lot of crap about over scheduling us on vacation. So this year she’s tried really hard not to do that. But asking Grandma not to plan and instead just relax is like asking General Custer to just lay low, wait for reinforcements and just avoid any sort of headlong charges.
So she sarcastically was referring to Thursday as “Grandpa’s Day” because nothing was planned except for a trip on the boats out to lunch. I don’t think she was upset about the lunch trip, I think she was upset that she didn’t have anything to do with the planning of the trip.
Anyway, lunch was good. Captain Ron\'s is a cool place. Takes a little long to get there, about 30 minutes in the boat but its worth it. They’ve remodeled the whole place since last year and they have good food and a beach where the kids can play. Plus t-shirts that say “Prepare to be boarded or surrender your booty.”
So by the time we made it back from lunch we’ve spent a lot of time in the sun on the boat, watching the girls play on the beach. Plus the girls went tubing in the morning. So, if you’re keeping a tally, the girls have exerted a good deal of energy through mid-afternoon. All which of course means we’ve unwittingly begun meltdown preparations and are well into the countdown to final meltdown ignition.
Plus it’s our night to make dinner. Each couple has to cook at least one night. Except for Mom’s younger sister and her husband. They have a two month old so their dinner was a trip to Applebee’s. So we have to drag our rear ends out to the grocery store. But only after Grandma peppered me with questions about when we were planning to eat, when we were planning to go the store, when we were planning to engage the action items on our dinner preparation checklist, and finally, when we were planning on going to Miner Mike’s and for how long.
Yeah, I know, I thought I was going to just unload on her like the AC-130 did on that Scorpion decepticon in Transformers. But I didn’t. I was so tired all I could muster were several “I don’t know’s” and a few “I’m really tired’s.”
By the way Miner Mike\'s is like a crack house for kids.
Anyway dinner was easy. Pesto pasta. Surprisingly the girls devoured it. Except for the vegetables. And we continued to blindly approach the failsafe on the Meltdown Countdown Clock. We had lots of clues with the needless, aimless, useless picking of fights with each other.
But we’re on vacation, which means our normal methods of dealing with such behavior don’t apply. Normally we’d just cancel whatever else we had planned for the evening, send the kids to bed early and let them recharge for the next day. Not so in the Ozarks. As evidenced by the inquisition Grandma put me through earlier, she really wanted to take the girls to Miner Mike’s. Plus we’d already told them we were going so there’s really no going back after that. You don’t just turn it off, as John Rambo would put it.
So to recap, the girls have had a long day. Their parents have had a long day. Everyone is tired. We’re feeling what is referred to in the seismology community as an earthquake swarm. Lots of minor quakes but none of which can be identified as the main quake. But you can feel it. Lurking. Waiting. Taunting you.
Bailey was first. But they were short. Burned themselves out quickly. Like Mike Huckabee’s presidential campaign. Kinsey was next but it didn’t really reach very high on the intensity scale. In fact, she showed all the signs of de-escalation. It was weird. Anyway, Riley loves Miner Mike’s. She would have stayed all night. No seismic activity detected in her sector.
We get back in the car and it’s after 9 p.m. That’s pretty late for the girls to be out. But we got through the whole experience with only microquakes and some fake teeth, fun dip and plastic stretchy bracelets as our booty from the prize counter.
“When we get back to the condo, its bed time for girls. No arguments, jammies on, and lights out.”
“But Dad its vacation. Every night is ‘stay up late’ night,” says Riley.
“Yeah it’s a party,” adds Kinsey.
And they’re saying this in their new Minnesota/Scandinavian accents their aunt taught them.
Don’t find it annoying at all.
Once in the condo, the girls fell asleep so fast it blew your hair back. They threw up some protests but they were weak. Like the Bengals run defense.
Tomorrow is the family Olympics day. We gave Grandma so much crap about the toilet paper wrap that she moved the events from the state park to the lake house of some good friends of theirs. Still dreading it however. Report back later.