See, it was such a momentous occasion that I just can’t stop talking or thinking about it. I actually got SLEEP on this one and felt slightly refreshed when we got home. So I am going to talk about it until I am blue in the face, mmkay?
I’ve decided to give you the top ten highlights, because I’m awesome like that. Without further ado:
- Imagine being about five minutes down the road from your house and hearing an alarm. Like, an air raid type sound. It turns out that The Guy I Live With had given Bug Boy the GPS (because my phone has one, so we used it) and Bug Boy set an alarm to warn us if Hubs was going over 65. See, rule boy has to make sure everyone follows the rules.
- Bugaboo sang falsetto for the entire three-hour ride to our cabin. ENTIRE RIDE. All of his favorites, too! Hot Cross Buns, Star Wars Imperial March, Twinkle Twinkle Little Star..in falsetto. AND! Remember, he doesn’t speak! So it’s all gibberish, too! Best part? When Bug Boy said, “THAT IS SO ANNOYING. MOM. THAT IS SO ANNOYING.” About thirty times because repeating the same sentence over and over in an hour’s time certainly isn’t annoying.
- All that trouble we went through to get Bugaboo that fancy schmancy five-point harness? Wiggled out of it five times on the way up. So glad we went through all that trouble.
- It’s a small town near the cabin. Like, a small, farming, predominately Mennonite and Amish town. It’s nothing to see gaggles of barefoot children in a dollar store or at a minimart. or sitting on laps on a wagon, trotting down the street. No car seats there. Sometimes, there are like eight kids squeezed into one of those little buggies. Amazing.
- Everywhere we went, Bug Boy gave a countdown for how many miles until we got to our destination, because apparently we hadn’t learned out lesson giving him the GPS on the way TO the camp. He gave the updates every two or three miles. This was only slightly less annoying then the alarm for going ONE MILE over the speed limit.
- We saw many, many R.O.U.S. Many. I kept my eyes out for fire and quicksand. We made it.
- We went out to dinner a lot because it was my vacation, too, and I don’t cook. They get cereal for breakfast and sandwiches for lunch and that’s it. One night, it was the Barrel of Cracker and Bugaboo suddenly reached over to me, took my hand and put it on his tooth. It appears it was loose and he wanted me to yank it out. I refused to do this at the table, of course, so he snapped it out himself and handed it to me, blood pouring down his face…just as the food arrived. So classy. Then we lost the tooth. BTW, the previous two teeth he lost? We have no idea what happened to them. POOF. Disappeared.
- One day we got this bright idea to drive to this quaint, beautiful little town about an hour north of the camp. We loaded the kids and dogs in, thinking we’d take them to this BEAUTIFUL park there, which even had old train cars for the kid to check out. So we get there, after getting stuck in traffic (in the middle of freaking no where) and Daisy puking multiple times (more on that later) and Bugaboo wetting his pants and pulled up to the park only to see many, many, many signs saying, “NO DOGS ALLOWED.” Crap.
- Speaking of puking, Daisy pukes in the car a lot. Like on the way to quaint little dog-unfriendly town, she puke on Bug Boy’s variety puzzle book. Now, you can buy one of these EVERY MONTH at discount department stores, mmkay? She puked right on the cover of his 225 Variety Puzzle book. That night I went to the store and got him a 253 Variety Puzzle book because I figured 253 is better than 225, right? Nope.Heard about it for the rest of the trip. He sighed and said, “It’s just not the same, mom.” Right. BECAUSE IT HAS MORE PUZZLES. THIS IS BETTER.
- There’s nothing like being in the middle of this teeny town of maybe 600 people and having a cell signal. Or being in a tiny buffet restaurant in the middle of nowhere and hearing thumping bass. Remember, most of the people who live here? AMISH AND MENNONITE. I am pretty sure it wasn’t coming from them. Just a hunch.
- I lied. There are eleven because this blog ALWAYS goes to eleven. Anyways, remember the dog puking? Well, between that and Bugaboo peeing the bed a few times (and not when he was asleep, he’d just go in there and pee on his bed. Thank goodness for mattress covers) I had to do laundry. So four days in a row we’d go over the mountain to the laundromat and through laundry in. Four days in a row I forgot the detergent we keep at the camp. Four days in a row we’d drive back to the camp without the laundry and have to turn around to get it.
I’m done talking about my vacation. Promise. Maybe. I tend to lie a lot, after all.