If you have not yet read Floss Fiasco and Redemption, in that order, you must stop here. Do not pass Go and do not collect $200. Click on the links and get those posts fresh in your memory before you venture any further.
Girl8.83 and I were on another adventure last week. Not surprisingly, it took us over the Pass and through Cle Elum. Observant Reader, you have got to know what is coming next. First the issue with the floss, next that whole thing with the yoga pants. I had another shot at looking AND smelling like a rose, and I could not pass it up. It is said that the Third Time is a Charm.
I mentally checked myself over. Early in the day, I had not yet worked up a sweat driving across the state. I was having a good hair day, I had brushed my teeth before leaving the house, and my clothes were still relatively clean. I knew I could pull it off this time. I gave Girl8.83 a cursory glance. She was presentable, in a road trip kid way. We pulled into the familiar gravel parking lot. Outside the front door, I eyed my reflection and once more checked my socks. They matched. Brushing some lint from my jacket, I took a deep breath and marched in, Girl8.83 trailing behind me.
The hostess directed us to a new table, far from the previous sites of misfortune. I found this to be encouraging. I decided that since we were on Spring Break, Baby!, I should split with tradition and order something different from my regular diet. I was seriously contemplating the Chicken Fried Steak until the Cottage Burger was served to the cowboy two booths down from us. It smelled like Heaven. Deciding to live a little and, barely able to keep myself from drooling, I ordered fries with it.
When my lunch arrived, I was more than delighted. I could not remember the last time I had eaten a hamburger and fries. I dripped some ketchup on my plate and prepared to dig in to the best meal in recent memory. Brandishing my napkin with a theatrical flourish, it slipped out of my hand and fluttered to the floor. I uttered a "TSK!" of disgust at my clumsiness while I reclined to get a better view under the table. Spotting it, I tilted to the side. The table was awfully close and I could not see. My hand was groping blindly with no success. I had no wish to sweep the floor with my fingertips before diving into my highly anticipated meal. I leaned forward more in an effort to expand the radius of my exploration. I was concentrating so hard on what was happening under the table that I failed to recognize my destiny speeding towards me. It was actually the table with which my nose collided that brought me back to the reality above ground. I snapped up to a more socially acceptable position and furtively glanced around, hoping that there were no witnesses.
Girl8.83 began to giggle. "Stop it!", I hissed at her, not wanting to attract the attention of the cowboy, who was enjoying the last bites of his Cottage Burger. I had déjà vu and not in a good way. Girl8.83 could hardly contain herself. Unable to use her words because of her stifled giggles, all she could do was point. At me. At my hair. Yes, Clairvoyant Reader, my hair had dipped into the ketchup while I was conducting the search and rescue operation under the table.
There really is not anything else to say about this. I have already bared my soul, poured out my former humiliations that occurred at this very same spot. It is like my own personal Bermuda Triangle. The only thing left to shout is, "SPRING BREAK, BABY!"
SPRING BREAK, BABY!
Spring break was a long time coming this year. State testing, parent conferences, ineligible athletes and long days led up to the early-release day that launched us in to the anticipated vacation. Unfortunately, it began with Girl8.75 saying, "I wanna go home and lie down on the couch!" I was dismayed because, not only did I not get the traditional high five and shout of, "SPRING BREAK, BABY!", but generally the afore-mentioned statement is a precursor to a sickness of monumental proportions. This time was no different. We went home and Girl8.75 writhed and moaned on the couch while I did my taxes. Suddenly she was pointing with one hand, the other covering her mouth. I felt like Timmy interpreting for Lassie. "What do you see out there?" I motioned outside. Her squeal was cranked up a notch and the hand waved fervently. "OH!" I suddenly understood. "You need to throw up!" I dashed to the kitchen and grabbed a pan, which was delivered in the nick of time. This, Empathetic Reader, is how Spring break began. The sun was shining for the first time in months, birds were singing, and I was tending to Girl8.75 and her pan. There were no high fives for me.
The next day was also a beautiful, sunny day. Girl8.75 was feeling considerably better. I knew this because when we got in the car, she announced happily, "Hey! I found my chocolate bar!" Before I could caution her to not tempt fate or her sensitive stomach, she inhaled it. We spent the day outside, coming in only to eat a lunch consisting of peanut butter and apple, and tuna fish sandwiches. The menu was Girl8.75's idea. That night, after chicken strips and fries, we attended a local showing of The Sound of Music. As we sat in the old theater and admired the newly restored organ, the old light fixtures and the ornate walls, it struck me that we were finally on vacation. I nudged Girl8.75 and stood up, pulling her up with me. I roared, "SPRING BREAK, BABY!" and we gave each other a big high five. The rest of the audience applauded with approval.
We were lucky enough to have tickets to a show in Seattle. We spent a day at Seattle Center, riding the monorail and eating more than our fair share of fries, cheesecake on a stick, and blue cotton candy. Besides the show, we witnessed the usual city drama, which included panhandlers jumping out of bushes as well as a girl, holding a dog on a leash, shouting in the door of the men's bathroom, "I am so disappointed!" and stalking away, sobbing. We made another pass through that hallway and she was there again, this time hollering, "I am so mad at you right now!" There was no response from the men's bathroom. After a day of wonderful sights and tastes, we headed home. Getting on I-5, we drove through a tunnel, which always reminds me of a bathroom with its shiny tiles. I rolled the window down, held the horn down for an eternity and yelled at the top of my lungs, "SPRING BREAK, BABY!"
Girl8.75 and I were invited to lunch at a Thai restaurant. After a wonderful meal of Noodles Delight, laughter and friendship, we exited to the parking lot to say our goodbyes. Satisfied to the brim, Girl8.75 and I got in the car. I backed out of my parking spot and paused. I revved the motor. Squealing my tires out of that lot, followed by a trail of smoke, I yelled, "SPRING BREAK, BABY!" Girl8.75 was not impressed.
Spring break may be upon us, but soccer practice continues like clockwork. Girl8.75 ran and played and joked with her friends while I walked the perimeter of the soccer field around and around, doing penance for my Thai lunch. I was feeling so happy that we had successfully done something fun each and every day, making the most of our vacation thus far. Once practice was over, Girl8.75 cheerfully waved goodbye to her friends as we got into the car. As we sped out of the parking lot, our car sprayed gravel in a rooster tail behind us as we both shouted out our windows, "SPRING BREAK, BABY!" I think she is getting the hang of it.
The next day was also a beautiful, sunny day. Girl8.75 was feeling considerably better. I knew this because when we got in the car, she announced happily, "Hey! I found my chocolate bar!" Before I could caution her to not tempt fate or her sensitive stomach, she inhaled it. We spent the day outside, coming in only to eat a lunch consisting of peanut butter and apple, and tuna fish sandwiches. The menu was Girl8.75's idea. That night, after chicken strips and fries, we attended a local showing of The Sound of Music. As we sat in the old theater and admired the newly restored organ, the old light fixtures and the ornate walls, it struck me that we were finally on vacation. I nudged Girl8.75 and stood up, pulling her up with me. I roared, "SPRING BREAK, BABY!" and we gave each other a big high five. The rest of the audience applauded with approval.
We were lucky enough to have tickets to a show in Seattle. We spent a day at Seattle Center, riding the monorail and eating more than our fair share of fries, cheesecake on a stick, and blue cotton candy. Besides the show, we witnessed the usual city drama, which included panhandlers jumping out of bushes as well as a girl, holding a dog on a leash, shouting in the door of the men's bathroom, "I am so disappointed!" and stalking away, sobbing. We made another pass through that hallway and she was there again, this time hollering, "I am so mad at you right now!" There was no response from the men's bathroom. After a day of wonderful sights and tastes, we headed home. Getting on I-5, we drove through a tunnel, which always reminds me of a bathroom with its shiny tiles. I rolled the window down, held the horn down for an eternity and yelled at the top of my lungs, "SPRING BREAK, BABY!"
Girl8.75 and I were invited to lunch at a Thai restaurant. After a wonderful meal of Noodles Delight, laughter and friendship, we exited to the parking lot to say our goodbyes. Satisfied to the brim, Girl8.75 and I got in the car. I backed out of my parking spot and paused. I revved the motor. Squealing my tires out of that lot, followed by a trail of smoke, I yelled, "SPRING BREAK, BABY!" Girl8.75 was not impressed.
Spring break may be upon us, but soccer practice continues like clockwork. Girl8.75 ran and played and joked with her friends while I walked the perimeter of the soccer field around and around, doing penance for my Thai lunch. I was feeling so happy that we had successfully done something fun each and every day, making the most of our vacation thus far. Once practice was over, Girl8.75 cheerfully waved goodbye to her friends as we got into the car. As we sped out of the parking lot, our car sprayed gravel in a rooster tail behind us as we both shouted out our windows, "SPRING BREAK, BABY!" I think she is getting the hang of it.
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