Summer Lovin’


Welcome to a Secret Subject Swap. This week 13 brave bloggers picked a secret subject for someone else and were assigned a secret subject to interpret in their own style. Today we are all simultaneously divulging our topics and submitting our posts.

My “Secret Subject” is:

Summertime! Lake, River or Salt Water?

It was submitted by:



Let me start by saying that winter is my favorite season.  Let’s be honest, the bulky sweaters, sweat pants, coats, scarves, hats, etc… cover many faults.  Summer clothing, summer activities, don’t leave much to the imagination and for some of us, this is terrifying.  Just the thought of trying on bathing suits, sends me into a panic induced anxiety attack.  My idea of a perfect day is spent lounging on the couch, under a comfy blanket, wearing pajamas, fuzzy socks or house slippers, sipping a cup of coffee and delving into a good book.  Not exactly summertime friendly.  In the heat of the summer, you’re more likely to find me standing naked in front of a fan…panting, sweating and cursing.


You know those goo-filled toys that kids play with, where you squeeze one side and the other side pops out bigger?  I forget what they are called, but that’s how I feel trying on bathing suits.  I shimmy that lycra/polyester blend over my thighs, hips and stomach, past the boobs, which I have to lift and set into each elastic bordered cup.  I pull the bottoms as far over my butt cheeks as possible, noting that the winter bush looked smaller and better maintained in my granny panties.


If I wore this swimsuit would I still need to shave?

I peer down critically at myself, feeling not that bad, why my stomach looks almost flat from this angle…then I look up.  At first I think, omg who is standing in my dressing room and how the heck did they get in here!


Then I realize it’s me, and not the me I envisioned when I was looking down at myself feeling kinda body positive, even almost on the thinnish side of the overweight curve.  I feel that maybe I’ve been punked by Ashton Kutcher (is that still a show?) and he’s replaced my dressing room mirror with one of the carnival fun house mirrors.  Don’t even get me started on the harsh fluorescent lighting!  I mean seriously, don’t retailers realize I’d buy a ton more clothes with a little mood lighting and a skinny mirror?  Instead of smoothing out my bumps and curves, the small piece of lycra horror has just pushed everything down, out and to the side.  Seriously, in addition to the uniboob, I also have tremendous side boob, underboob and back cleavage.  I don’t even know where to look.  Epic disaster.  I feel the need to dive into some ice-cream head first.  Or cry.  Or both.  Summertime…ugh.

They say fat looks better tanned.  Which brings me to the actual secret subject question I received.  Lake, river or salt water?  So, now that I’ve horrified all of you with mental visuals of me in a bathing suit, let’s break this down.  Careful, you’re about to experience the full brunt of my neuroses, and it’s not pretty.  You’ve been warned.


Lake?  No.  If I’m forced to frolic around in lake water, I’d prefer to do it on the back of an inner tube or jet ski or from the safety of a big boat.  I’m not a fan of swimming around in murky, dank water where I can’t see what exactly is swimming with me, and I’m terrified of getting nibbled by fishy friends.


I feel like my pale, ghostly white skin looks fairly luminescent bobbing just under the surface of the lake, and that to marine life, I might look a bit like a fat worm being dangled enticingly before them, not a mere snack but a full on 6 course meal.  The bottom of the lake floor just feels kinda gross to me, slimy and strange, forcing me to wear swim shoes which gives me a weird foot tan.  The idea of me bouncing around on a inner tube doesn’t exactly feel me with excitement either.  Frankly, I’m not sure my swimsuit would even hold up.  I have visions of sausage casing erupting, spreading out over the surface of the lake and then being gobbled down by the fish or other strange lake creatures I can’t identify.  As I accidentally inhale gulps of lake water in my frantic dash to pull myself back up into the boat or on the inner tube, it occurs to me how many kids/adults have used this very lake as their own personal bathroom. Or dumping ground (pun intended). I can almost feel the unnamed, unidentified bacteria moving towards me in rapid pace as I huff and puff myself back into relative safety.


How I imagine the bacteria to look as it’s coming for me!

So yeah…no lake for me.

River? I picture rivers as something you walk across during a hike, or stop to let your dog play in while you bandage up your blisters from the new hiking shoes you bought because they were cute, and the color matched your hiking outfit, not because they were practical or even comfortable and appropriate for actual hiking.  A river is where you might stop to let your horse drink, if you’re into horseback riding or where you might splash water on your red, sweaty and puffy hiking exerted face.  I guess people float down rivers and stuff on inner tubes but I’d have the same concerns listed above under lake.  So probably no river for me either.

Which brings me to salt…

I noticed pool wasn’t an option, and I have a whole rant on public pools and swim parks, but since it wasn’t part of the question, I’ll spare you.  You’re welcome.

I’ll be traveling to Puerto Rico in two short weeks where all my deepest fears and insecurities will be put out on display for better or worse.  I love the beach, except for the sand part and I love the ocean except for the salt/shark/jelly fish part.  I love the idea of the beach/ocean combo.  I love the sounds.  I love the natural beauty to be found there. It’s the practical side of nature I struggle with and the beach is no exception. I don’t relish the thought of washing sand out of my hoohah every day or feeling the sting of salt slapping against my razor burns/cuts.  As much as I criticize and poke fun of my various body parts, I’m kinda partial to them and would hate to lose them to a shark.  If I worry that I look like yummy bait to little lake fishies, imagine what a shark would think!??!  All you can eat buffet anyone?


So I suppose if I had to pick one, it would be definitely be salt, but more in a lounge chair by the ocean with a delicious umbrella adorned beverage while I delve into the latest fiction craze on my kindle, lathered up with sunscreen, shielded under the world’s largest hat/umbrella combo, feeling a little bit like a movie star but hoping there isn’t any paparazzi hovering around to take gnarly close-ups, and zoom in on my white, cellulite covered thighs and back cleavage.


Cheers to summer ya’ll ❤

Here are links to all the sites now featuring Secret Subject Swap posts.  Sit back, grab a cup, and check them all out. See you there:

Baking In A Tornado              

Cognitive Script           

The Blogging 911         

The Lieber Family Blog           

The Bergham Chronicles        

Southern Belle Charm          

Never Ever Give Up Hope       

The Angrivated Mom          

Not That Sarah Michelle       

Bookworm in the Kitchen        

Part-time Working Hockey Mom 



Fun Is My Middle Name! Or not…

My third buzzword for 2016 is

FUN 🍾🎉

FUN 🍾🎉

and more

FUN 🍾🎉

When I shared this goal with my husband, he had three thoughts:

  1. a stripper pole in the bedroom
  2. more gym time
  3. his/her tattoos

As appalling tempting as those ideas sound, that’s not exactly where I was going with this idea. Although, I do think my husband would rock the g-string and pasties.  If you actually know my husband, then you’re welcome for that visual 😛

It’s difficult to find time to vacation with my husband’s schedule.  We’d love to take more family vacations and romantic couple getaways.  Family vacations are difficult financially with four kids, and then trying to find a block of time we can all go is virtually impossible.  Our 3 girls work full-time, go to college full-time, I’m lucky if I see them more than once per week, forget a full-fledged vacation!  Couple vacations are more manageable financially, but we can’t just leave our 10 year old son behind, not to mention our dogs, and for the reasons listed above we don’t want to burden our girls with this added responsibility, they already do so much.  Extended family isn’t really an option for us either for many reasons.

I don’t know about you, but I tend to romanticize our vacations.  During the planning phase, my visions of family vacation time are Instagram and FaceBook post worthy.  My kids all get along, my husband and I don’t argue, everything goes smoothly and according to plan.  We are the poster children for family fun, togetherness and happiness.  People will want to be us.  They will envy my planning skills, covet our shared photos. 

The reality is usually far different.  For example, the time my husband took off the side of our dodgy RV with a gas station pump.  Or when man-child’s penis got caught in the netting of his swim trunks causing him to cry during the entire walk from the beach to our rented house, every step excruciating pain, not being able to communicate the problem and being yelled at for crying and carrying on.  It’s with fondness that I recall the time my oldest daughter ate the side of a mountain with her face on our first ski trip, and sported a nasty black eye for the remainder of the trip.  Or the time my husband played chicken with a semi-truck in our dodgy RV.  Ah, that RV…such memories. We look back and laugh at these stories now, or at least most of them, but they don’t exactly live up to my expectations.  Our family trips bonded us (tested us) in ways different than we expected. However, I wouldn’t trade one memory or experience, the good, the bad or the ugly.  


The Dodgy RV

We’ve learned, out of necessity, to rock the staycation.  The six of us have fun just hanging together, playing games, watching movies, eating, drinking and general merriment.  Despite the fact that we haven’t seen much of the world, we’ve done a good job of instilling a sort of wanderlust in our children.  They love to travel, are open to new adventures and places.  Sometimes the best adventures happen in your own backyard.

 The bottom line is that fun is what you make of it.

Honestly, who needs a romantic getaway when you can send your husband sexy videos like this in the middle of his work day.


He couldn’t get away home fast enough 😉

Anyway, there is so much in our home state, even our local cities, that we haven’t yet experienced.  Our fun goal for 2016 is to do a better job of exploring the great state of Texas.  It’s practically it’s own country, or so the locals like to say 🙂  

Given my fitness goals for this year, I also wanted to find a way to incorporate exercise into our daily life.  I think 5k’s are great way to do this.  We can train as a family, and some of them are really fun!  Our German Shepherd loves being with all of us.  I thought scheduling scenic hikes with her and the whole family, little day trips, would be fun.  I’m not a huge fan of camping, but I’m willing to give it another try.  Maybe. Possibly. I’ll put it on the list…at the bottom.

In the next few months, our youngest daughter will be moving out (insert sobbing emoji here) and it will just be the three of us.  I’ll have even more time to pursue things I think are personally fun, like blogging, writing, reading and binge-watching television shows on Netflix. I am currently super addicted to Criminal Minds, eleven seasons all waiting for me!  I’m on season 2 and already an expert on profiling.  

My kindle is armed and ready.  


My kindle queue changes all the time, and I’m always looking for suggestions.

What kinds of things do you do for fun?  What books are on your reading list this year?  Do you have any fun family vacations planned this year that I can envy from afar?  Romantic getaways with your significant other?  Please let me live vicariously through you, share ❤

A Snorkelin’ We Go-Go: She Said/HeSaid – Day 5

So, I’ve got to start cranking out the blog posts if I want to meet my 31 post goal in 31 days.  Next time I mention doing a blog challenge.  Slap me.  Hard.  Let me continue our vacation saga…  I’ve got an award speech to write, and if I have time, I might blog about what my son’s parent-teacher conference taught me about him.  Don’t hold me to these.  Might happen.  Might not.


Update Section:

1)      Lord and Lady R:  Apparently there have been some crazy shenanigans while I’ve been gone from work between the couple you might recall from the Day 1 blog.  Lord R was in possession of a gun.  Yes, a gun people, you read that correctly.  And this gun had to be confiscated from Lord R after he threatened to shoot himself because he couldn’t stand to live with THAT woman one minute longer, “I’d rather be dead, or in the hospital, but I can’t put up with her anymore!”  Having met her, I take this threat very seriously, and I’m sad for Lord R.  I hope they get everything worked out and can move him over to another apartment soon.  Prayers for both.

2)      My blog yesterday was entitled Burn Notice because we are all quite sunburned.  I neglected to mention that fact, although there will be more of that to follow.  Apparently, it doesn’t matter how much sunscreen you lather on yourself down here.  It’s brutal.

3)      I had no idea that my husband wasn’t even fully awake as our son lay next to him wallowing in fever.  It is good for him that I didn’t know at the time that I was alone in my worry and terror for little man’s physical health.  It’s very good for him.  In fact, I actually used my iPhone to calculate how long it would take to walk from Destin to home, and it was like 9 days.  You’d think it would be longer, I wonder if that’s without sleep…. Hmmmmm.  I’d leave him the map, with coffee checkpoints highlighted and circled.  Yes, I know, I’m a giver.

4)      And I don’t know who my husband thinks he’s kidding, like he needs to wait for man-child to grow up to check out other women…he does it now, ALL THE TIME.  I can’t even tell you how many times he put our life in danger while driving and ogling chicks.  He was like a dog with its head hanging out the window, tongue lolling to the side.  Excuuuuuuse me for scoping out future husband material to get these girls married off so we can enjoy a relatively early retirement!  Far be it from me to think of us and our future happiness!!!!  *sigh*

Okay, on to Day 5.  We departed this morning for Shell Island, located off Panama City Beach.  We drove an hour to get to Andrew’s State Park, only to board a rickety bus with 40 other passengers and loaded down with our chairs, towels, umbrella, assorted beach bags and snorkeling equipment.  Daughter #1 gets the front bench, which she shares with man-child, and we hadn’t driven more than 2 seconds, when the bus takes a corner, and man-child goes flying off the seat.  Daughter #1’s face turned 6 shades of red as we took turns giving her hard time, accusing her of shoving him out of the seat so she could lie down, etc…  It might have been made worse by the fact that a cute boy was sitting opposite her.  I think if she could have vanished herself or us right then and there she would have.  Poor thing.  I didn’t know anyone could quite turn that shade of red; it was more like fuchsia or magenta.  It really brought out the blue of her eyes though.  man-child was a trooper, he didn’t even cry, although that might have been due to shock.  He did throw his sister several hurt and accusatory glances though, and he didn’t offer to sit next to her again.

So after the bus ride, we have to wait on this narrow rickety dock and listen to this guy preach about the oil spill and bad government and how we should all follow him down to his “place” and sign his “special” petition.  Ummmm….I think not.  I am too worried man-child is going to fall off the dock and I’ll have to dive into the murky fishy depths to retrieve him.

Finally the boat arrives!  Away to Shell Island for the promise of snorkeling and dolphins!

I want my money back.

1)      The snorkeling experience (at first) was a bit like trying to snorkel the area around my dad’s boat dock, but worse.  Plus, we were getting attacked by seaweed, floating plants and other things I couldn’t even identify.

2)      The waves were literally back-breaking.  I have no “core”, so when I get knocked down, I literally have to wait for the next wave to hit me and use the momentum in the hopes of propelling myself forward and back onto my feet before the undertow sucks me back down again where I struggle to keep my head above water as the next wave hits me and the process begins again until eventually I am able to get up.

3)      It was a 3 mile hike across what felt like the Sahara to get from the place the boat docked to where we set up beach camp.  Getting back was going to be a bitch.

4)      We did finally find some decent snorkeling on the other side of the rocky embankment, and by the time we were done, we had swam with fish, found hermit crabs and got blisters from the flippers.

I walk back to beach camp and inform hubby it’s time to head back.  All of us are worn out, and very sunburned.  I head back with as much as I can carry, and I don’t stop until I reach the boat dock because I am very afraid if I stop, I won’t get started again.  I wait for hubby to show up with man-child and daughter #2.  Finally, I see him in the distance, carrying the chairs and something else.  What is that?  Oh nooooooo.  He’s carrying man-child, this is gonna get really ugly.  He pretty much drops man-child a few feet from me and by this time I can hear the wailing.  Poor little guy is so exhausted.  He runs to the comforting arms of mommy (mean Daddy go away!) and everyone takes pity on the poor guy and tries to help cheer him up by pulling hermit crabs out of the water.  That does the trick; pretty soon he is smiling again.  Hubby on the other hand has put himself in time-out and isn’t speaking….to anyone.  We avoid him like the plague, he could ignite upon impact.  I am sure he’ll give you some sob story, don’t believe it.  Man-child is 4, hubby does have a 4 in his number, but it’s the first number out of two!

So now we take the boat back to the bus and the bus back to the rental car and the rental car back to the RV.  Now once we get back, the girls and I go shower.  Daughter #1 and I get first dibs, then Daughter #3 and finally Daughter #2.  I know how impatient Daughter #3 gets while waiting, so I am performing a running commentary on where I am in the showering process.  At one point, I holler out that I am shaving my unmentionables.  There is a small silence, then Daughter #3 says “ummm Mom, we aren’t alone in here”.  Oh.  Oh my.  Awesome.  Mouth is shut now, and I hurry and finish and do not make eye contact as I exit the building.  Daughter #1 almost drowned in the shower trying not to laugh out loud at my shame and embarrassment.

Once we are all showered and dressed, we head to The Twisted Palm for dinner.  Each table has its own TV with cable, so man-child is able to watch the Disney Channel….ahhh heaven.  I can’t eat though.  I might have mentioned before I have issues with using bathrooms other than my own at home.  I have only “BEEN” to the bathroom once since we left, so I am feeling a little….backed up shall we say.  In fact, I am to the point where I can’t even hold it back and God forbid this moment happens at the RV park with nice bathrooms, no it happens at The Twisted Palm with skanktastic public restrooms.  I’ll spare you the details, but awful doesn’t begin to describe that particular adventure.

After dinner, we head to Wal-Mart, so I can buy some Motrin PM and we can get some quarters for laundry.  O M G.  I can’t even begin to describe the scene that awaited us.  It was like a People of Wal-Mart convention (you know the website?).  I couldn’t get out of there fast enough.

Motrin PM + Purging of my intestines = finally a decent nights sleep.


Ahhh… the sweet smell of the RV in the morning, awesome!    Off to another day of fun and sun.

Today our plan includes a visit to the “world famous” Shell Island off the coast of Panama City Florida.  We load up the mini rolling turd (aka mini-van rental), get on board, hit the road (again) and head east on the Emerald Coast Highway.

Now I mentioned yesterday that we contributed to our nation’s economy by placing an economic stimulus payment with Wal-Mart in exchange for commercial goods (or crap).

Today, I find out the true significance of the word “obey” as stated in the wedding vows.  Meaning?  Namely that as the man in this family, I must bundle all this crap on my back and haul it like a pack camel to whatever destination we head for.  So there I am, getting out of the car with:  Four beach chairs, a basket full of beach toys and the four-year old man-child who at this point is choosing to walk rather than be carried, praise the Lord.

Reader, take a moment of pause to get this mental picture…got it?

Now stop laughing and read on.

My tribe enters, the wife stands in line with the girls to pay for our tickets and fees for snorkeling gear and I stand in the corner of this place straining to stand up with all this crap while our little guy informs me (and the rest of the patrons) that he WANTS a toy!!   I ponder the scene and suddenly become convinced of two things at this juncture:

(1) That all of these places are tourist traps that intentionally place hokey souvenirs in strategic places while employees behind hidden cameras in the back room laugh hysterically at parent’s dealing with the kids reactions to the response “NO we are not buying anything!!”.  Damn them!!! Damn them all to hell!!!

(2) I need to exit this facility, find shade and drop my load before I pass out.    As I contemplate the one I do the other.

With snorkel gear in hand, we board a bus, which will take us to a pier that will in turn provide a boat that will take us to one Shell Island.  As we board the bus, I am reminded of the movie Planes, Trains and Automobiles starring the late John Candy and Steve Martin.   I won’t describe here, just rent the movie and you will get a laugh.    The wife mentioned already, as we pull out of the bus stop, the man-child goes flying onto the floor!   He is fine, but I take this moment to yell to my oldest daughter sitting with him, “Awesome, now your brother can break your fall should you fall out of the seat!”   I think there was a cute boy in the seat next to her, because I am pretty sure the shade of red that materialized on her face was not due to sunburn.  Good Times!

Finally, we arrive at the pier and again we wait in line… for the boat.   Whilst waiting for our vessel to arrive, we are entertained by some activist in the water with what appears to be a large tarp floating on top of the water and held in place by large trash bags filled with air. I think this is the hillbilly version of a simulated Oil Spill?    I really don’t pay much attention, but he is shouting something about the Oil Spill, how bad it is in Louisiana and the impending doom of Florida Beaches.   He keeps ranting about BP Oil and the lack of Government response until the boat arrives.    Now listen, I like the beach as much as the next guy.   I also agree that this crisis in the Gulf is just that, a crisis the likes of which this nation has not seen.   However, while I can appreciate this gentleman’s zeal, I really wonder what good it is doing or if this yahoo has any idea on how to fix this problem.   Yeah dude, the government sucks. Yeah dude, BP is the devil.   Oh hey, how did you get all that crap here?  With your 2-ton, Ford F-350 pulling a flat-bed that gets like 4 MPG?   Hmmmm.   Maybe we should think about our need and desire for Oil that facilitates the urgency and rationale for drilling in risky offshore environments?  Just a thought?    Ok, enough of that.

The boat pulls on to the Island, we get off, we find a spot right next to the dock to make base camp and then the wife goes and “checks out” another spot.   Keep smiling… just keep smiling.      One of the children comes back and informs me that we have found better ground around the corner.   I load up the crap, and start walking.  OMG!  As I turn the corner, there is a desert of Sand to cross and two thoughts come to mind.  First, I now have a mental picture of what Moses saw when he crossed the desert into Median.  Second, the walk back is going to be a B-tch!

We all had a great time of course.  The girls found sea-shells,  man-child got buried in the sand all the way up to his head, we built sand castles and the ladies went snorkeling.   Ironically, the best snorkeling was back at our original location right next to the freaking dock!   This is a fact that swam through my head has I walked back to the dock, across the Sahara, with all this crap and man-child in my arms!    AHHHHH!!!    On the bright side, I got a good work-out in on the way back to the boat.

More to follow….   One more day, then we head back to Dallas!

Burn Notice: Day 4 – She Said/He Said Saga Continues

Let the vacation saga continue….  I’ve got a 5 day weekend coming up, taking a few days off work.  My plan is to catch up on my blogging challenge, and be awesome and hilarious while doing it.  That’s the plan anyway.  Which means it won’t happen.  Naturally.  It’s Homecoming weekend.  Will we survive?

She Drinks and Truths: Day 4

Momma got drunk.

Let me rewind a bit to earlier in the day, or the middle of the night rather.

So, man-child wakes up crying.  He feels feverish, so I am freaking out because naturally, I forgot to pack Motrin, Tylenol or any fever-reducing pain medication.  I put him into bed with Daddy, and after seeing he is settled in, I crawl into his bed.  A bed, which by the way, was too small for me, not that it matters…I’ll be up all night fretting over every possible sick scenario from ear infections from the ocean water to strep throat to malaria (yes malaria) and what we will do if his fever spikes to dangerous levels, because we have NO CAR!!!!!  AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!  Would daddy dearest run to the local Circle K?  It’s only a few miles…in the middle of the night.  Maybe if I bribe him with coffee…?  I am getting a headache from trying to strain my eyes to see to the back of the RV to see if little man is sleeping or not.  Then I toss and turn, worrying every scenario to death and praying fervently that everything will be okay.

Finally, dawn arrives.  I wake up to the dulcet sounds of little man driving everyone crazy again.  Yes!  Life is good.  Everything is back to normal.  Thank you, God.

AND….our rental car has arrived!!!!  Woo hoo!!!  Now we can spread our fun over the entire coast!

The hubby takes the car to get his precious coffee.  And for all you haters out there that sympathized with his addiction, when we get back I’m sending you all on a road trip together with him!  And another thing, yes there are things I love, like, admire and adore about my husband.  I plan on borrowing an idea from another blogger this weekend and posting the ABC’s of why I love my husband.  HOWEVER, there is a hulking figure that follows him everywhere he goes…his EGO.  He is better equipped than most to handle my snark, so don’t go feeling all sorry for him, or thinking I’m a man-basher.  Yes, even he will admit this is true, and has even discussed the gravitational pull of reflective surfaces. 
He married me for the express purpose that I keep him humble.  Believe me, no one else could put up with him like I do or vice versa.  SOOOOO there!

Whew.  I needed to get that off my chest.  Moving on now…  Where was I?

Oh yes, so we load up our nice rental car (no seriously it really is nice) and head down to the beach.  This beach is even prettier and better than the last one, so we are all in heaven.  And before we headed to the beach, we stocked up at Wal-Mart with chairs, an umbrella, snacks and loaded up the cooler with beverages.

There was one terrifying moment when I lost man-child.  In the waves.  As he was pulled under.  With no life vest or other life-saving flotation devices.  I felt like a momma tigress fighting through that undertow to reclaim my son!  He finally surfaces after what looked like a whirlpool sucking him under, and I yank him up and immediately sooth him as he belches from his toes and gags (I’ll admit I did kinda offer up a prayer that he not throw up on me).  Then daddy came out (finally, what the heck!) and took him back to our mini beach camp.  A few minutes later, little man was back out shaking his fist and screaming at the waves.  Ok there tough guy.  Meanwhile, mom sank down into a puddled heap and almost wept from relief.

We decide finally we’ve had enough, so we head back to our little home away from home.  Shower, change and head down to the Harbor Walk Village, which is this quaint little shopping mecca with everything from designer clothes, to live birds, to fish-gutting.  We ate at this restaurant called Harry T’s.  It was scrumptious, and yes for the first time all vacation we broke our vegetarian rule.  Couldn’t be helped.  When in Rome.  And all that jazz.  I ordered this drink called the big top.

It looked like a fish bowl with sparklers in it and fruit decorating the edges.  This thing was massive.  I drank about a 1/3 of it, and I was tipsy.  Well, ok…drunk.

We had a great time, the girls picked on daddy and man-child was a prince.  Then we got a visit from Giggles the Clown (the scary clown with the smokers cough and the terrifying cackle).

But she said balloon animals and face painting, so man-child was in!  She painted his face like a pirate, and gave him a balloon sword with a holster.  Aye matey, he looked like a right good pirate on the high seas!  She even made daddy a matching sword.  As we were walking around the little village, man-child wanted my mirror, and then he proceeded to walk while staring at himself as we tried to help him navigate since he wasn’t watching where he was going.  He is truly his father in every way 🙂

We headed back to the RV, and all fell exhausted into our tiny little uncomfortable beds (oh, after giving man-child some chewable motrin tablets, we were taking no chances this time).

Oh…and HIS side or whatever: Day 4

This morning I woke up realizing that it was not a dream… at some point my wife was replaced in our bed by my son.  Where is my wife?!?!   Honey?!  Are you here?!  What happened?  Why are you curled up in man-child’s sleeping quarters?    Now before you get too harsh, please realize that when I,  OCD Boy and Captain of the  Worry Wart Extraordinaire Club (a trait which I am obliged to add serves me well in my current job) finally relaxes enough and  falls asleep, I enter into the twilight zone and do not do well waking from this state of mind.  I recall the man-child crying.   I remember something about him running a fever and my wife frantically realizing that we had no over-the-counter medication on board the RV.   (OMG!  I cannot imagine the kind of “what if’s” my wife is cataloging at that particular moment).  There were also the “gentle” kicks in the midsection and kidneys in the middle of the night that I was curious about.   Then, dawn, and my boy snuggling up close and saying, “Daddy— the sun is awake, that means you have to wake up tooooo.”   Some times that boy is too cute for words, and if he was feeling like crap last night, then thanks be to God, his little motor is running fine now and he is ready to go.

First things first, pick up rental motor vehicle.  God shines on us again, and we find a little rental car place right next to the RV Resort.  I walk over and get a new mini-van and head back to get the family… right after I hit up my supplier (Local Circle K) for my morning dosage (Coffee or Manna from heaven, either one works).   We pack up and like any good RV folk would do…WE HEAD OUT TO THE WAL-MART.  .    After an expenditure that can only be described as an economic stimulus payment we load up the mini-van (or the mini rolling turd as I like to call it) and head to the beach.

On the way, I mention that yesterday on my 3.2 mile run down the coastline bike path, I noticed some areas where there was public parking on the beach and also mentioned that it fills up fast so we want or rather NEED to hurry.  Now I mentioned this in Wal-Mart and suggested we hurry.  For some reason, the wife got a little unnerved when I mentioned this again on exiting Wal-Mart.   Seeing her irritation I could only think of the immortal words of Bill Clinton, “What? What did I do?”    Anyway, as it turns out, we find a place to park, a prime spot at the beach and quickly begin to enjoy our day of sun, fun and near drowning events.  Ahhhh.. Good times.    Honestly though, it was a tremendous time and the beach and weather was absolutely idyllic.   Thank you God.

After the beach, we head back to our little slice of heaven on wheels and get cleaned up to head for the Harbor Boardwalk.  It is a quaint little walk way on the bay, waterside that contains shopping and all sorts of stuff to do.  We arrive – after getting a little lost – and the fun begins.  I only want to note a few key highlights for your reading pleasure:

  1. On the way, the wife tells me to stop checking out girls in dental floss outerwear and watch the road.  I, of course explain I was not doing this that I am watching the road and seriously, like she is not checking out guys all this time.  She replies, “…but I am doing that for the girls, it is different.”   OMG!  Did she really just say that!?   Oh, I cannot wait for man-child to get older so I can play this card!  I never knew this exemption existed.
  2. The first thing we do upon arrival is “search” for parking… I will let the reader’s imagination run free at this juncture.  Let us just say that I moved the car after finding a space.
  3. Next we encounter the “bird-man” on the boardwalk.  He has several tropical birds of all sizes and makes money by perching said birds on willing patrons and for a tip will allow a picture to be taken.  So here I go… man-child is in one arm, the other arm has three small birds on it.  I have a large bird on the other shoulder and what can only be described as two small pterodactyl’s on TOP of my head.   Yes I said on top.  The smile and ‘click’!  (of course it takes several unsuccessful clicks by my wife with one camera until she finally switches and takes a pic on the iPhone camera… while I worry about bird crap the whole time)
  4. Finally a nice dinner, face paint and balloon swords.  Good times!

So we head back to the RV, Fat, Happy, Face Painted and all.  Along with silent prayers of thanksgiving that tropical birds don’t crap on patrons.

Next Stop:  Shell Island