August 11, 2007
This weekend we took a somewhat impromptu trip to San Antonio. Basically Murphy's Law was in full force, and everything went wrong. Despite seven hours of traffic on the way down, an over tired toddler, a bowl of soup and a burger totalling forty dollars, an echoing tantrum in the hotel room, an echoing tantrum in a cave, and a ridiculously disgruntled husband, I managed to have a whale of a time.
There was only one time that I really wanted to throw in the towel and cry, and that was on the way home. We stopped off to have dinner at Luby's Cafeteria. I'm overly enthusiastic about all types of cafeteria food (hospital, school, prison, etc.)--so I was excited to say the least. We walked to the front door of the restaurant and Jared said "Oh, I have to go put my sunglasses in the car." As he walked back to the old Toyota, a church bus pulled up to the entrance, let out its little puff of air, and off walked 40-or-so happy, hungry church members. Jared came back, and being the curmudgeon he is, refused to wait. As we walked away from Luby's, with a tear welling up in my eye, I stopped, gave my husband a laser-beam glare and grumbled, "I hate your sunglasses. I hate them so much." And then we ate fast food.
Anywho, the rest of the trip was fantastic (for me at least). San Antonio is a beautiful city--further proof that Dallas is still the lamest dot on a map of Texas.
That first picture is of me and my family posed in front of the Alamo. It was surprisingly small in person. Being the history buff that I am, I have no idea why the Alamo is famous. Even after the [snoring boring] educational tour, I still have no idea why the Alamo is famous. All I know is that my all time favorite movie, Pee-Wee's Big Adventure, had a scene at the Alamo. I looked and looked, and much to my dismay, Pee-Wee's bike was not on display.
Here is a picture of James performing The Dance of the Over Tired Toddler for a group of tourists on the river walk.
Here I am showing James a duck. He told me that he wanted to eat the duck. I was like, "James, that's disgusting."
Here I am trying to reason with James, letting him know that he's not allowed to go 'fwimming', in the river because he might float away. I am also gently talking myself out of letting James go 'fwimming' because the trip could take a sharp turn for the better if he did float away.
James and his beloved water bottle.
Here we are at some cave. I saw the billboard on the ride home and made Jared take the fifteen mile detour, because DAMNIT! he was gonna have some fun. Little did I know that taking an overtired toddler into an echoing cave, 135 feet below the earth, with only one way out, was a very, very bad idea. Thirty-five dollars and two hours later, we were barely speaking.
Here is an aquifer (as if I even know what that means). Yes, of course James wanted to go 'fwimming' and had a tantrum on a two foot wide ledge when I said no. He was clawing at the cave walls, screaming like a madman, and he totally pulled my skirt down for a second. That's when the overly friendly tour guide shimmied over, looked at James and said, "Honey, remember not to touch the walls of the cave!"
James stopped crying, looked at me, and said, "Mommy, I bite her." I was like "Ok."
So there ya have it! Our weekend trip to San Antonio with a toddler in tow. Hee-haw!
Posted by Amy