||[Sep. 5th, 2011|10:51 pm]
I really need to get back ito the habit of LJ. Facebook is great and all, but I totally feel like a gerbil in a lab experiment, constantly hitting the bar in the hopes that this time something good will fall out.|
Anyway, life is good, which admittedly makes for boring posts. Little Dude and I went to Water Country, which was ok. I have to admit, I haven't quite managed to scale back my expectations properly for it. Pennsic is still fun with the kid in tow because I go in with the mindset that I will do a little shopping and talk to my friends and anything else is gravy. It irks me that Water Country - ostensibly a family attraction - is basically inhospitable to the really little ones. Pretty much anything with more than 10 inches of water requires a life jacket, they were kind of pissy about how I couldn't use our own floaty, and they wouldn't let me and the Little Dude go down the slide at the pirate ship together. Fucking psycho, litigious, risk-averse society. Next time, I guess I will bring the life jacket we bought him for canoeing, which is Coast Guard approved and hasn't been mangled by every other guest.
Despite the above, we had a pretty good time. We were in the wave pool for a good hour before someone noticed our non-standard floaty and made a fuss. Little Dude found some other kids whose guardians didn't mind him hassling them. There was a little girl who coyly ran just slow enough that she never quite lost him and a pair of Hispanic boys who were much, much faster but happy to run loops around him and pretend to be scared by his monster impression. I think they might have been casting spells on him by the gestures, but since they were speaking Spanish at a rapid fire rate, we'll probably never know for sure. Unless he sprouts horns or something tomorrow. Which you would have to admit, would be pretty impressive.
Little dude's strongest memory of today is that as I was strapping him into the car seat to go home, a flock of seagulls descended on the hood of the car and ate the last of his basket of potato chips, which I had foolishly left there:
"Boird ate my pawowo cips. ::heavy sigh::"
Rats with wings, I tell you.