Sunday, July 29, 2007

Vacation...Had To Get Away

We took a little trip this weekend to Rehoboth Beach to spend a couple of days with one of Alex's friends from work and his wife. (The friend's wife, not Alex's. Although a lot of my and Alex's problems could be solved with a second wife. As long as I get to be in charge and boss her around.)

Just before we left on Saturday, Sam asked if it was going to be a long drive. After I told him it would be, he asked if I needed to go potty first. Thanks, Sam, I think I've had enough practice at going pee before long car trips. I am 34. But the car trip was actually a lot longer than intended. Our first stop was scheduled. We dropped Cassidy off at her doggy hotel. (They kept referring to her pen as a "suite," something it very much was not. See, in my mind a suite involves a multi-room set-up. And probably less concrete and chainlink than there was in her cage.)

Our second stop was not scheduled. It happened shortly after Jack started vomiting profusely while we were on the beltway. We had just gotten him cleaned up and bought water and crackers for him and were standing outside the car deciding what to do when Quinn started throwing up. Followed shortly thereafter by Sam's barfing. See, remember Chuck E. Cheese? Yeah, they poisoned the family. (Maybe instead of calling poison control for the mosquito repellent, we should have called for the pizza.) Even Alex felt queasy. I, being the only one smart enough to not eat the pizza, was the only one to feel great all day Saturday. (That is, until that night when I was laying in bed with Quinn waiting for him to fall asleep and the boulder that he calls his head came crashing down on my nose. Twenty-four hours later and I still have a headache.)

The purging seemed to make everyone feel better, though, so we soldiered on. Soon enough everyone was happily watching Peter Pan on our minivan DVD player (I know, embarrassing) while Quinn jabbered happily away (Alex: "I can't wait until he grows the little creature in his head that tells him to shut up.") and Alex slowly got more and more upset at the traffic.

And when we finally got there, Sam's understanding of family became clear when, in rapid succession, he asked Alex about his friend: "Does he have kids? Does he have babies? Does he have a grown-up girl?" (No, no, and yes.)

We had a great time. It was a little nerve-wracking to be in a nice, mostly white house with our three little monsters, but our hosts were very wonderful and accommodating. They even had hot dogs, chips, and ice cream ready for dinner. They may not have kids, but they clearly understood kids.

The beach was fantastic. It was thundering at first, so the guys got to explore the boardwalk and go on some kiddie rides and win some funny stuffed animals. Then we went to the beach where, by some miracle, all three of them had a delightful time. Even Quinn, He-Who-Fears-the-Baby-Pool, happily launched himself into the ocean. And Sunday we took them to a pool where they happily cavorted until we forced them to leave.

Vomiting, head-butting, and rain, but a fantastic time!


  1. Boy! Hearing you talk about multiple wives makes me can the girl out of Utah, but you can't take Utah out of the girl... Hee Hee...

  2. Bite your tongue, crazy girl!

  3. Vomiting aside, this sounds like an AWESOME trip!

    And cute-as-heck new picture of you too!


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