We just spent a busy and fun weekend back home celebrating my dad's birthday. The kids and I headed home Thursday night. We invaded our second home, ate dinner and dessert, messed up their house then snuck off to our hotel. While I unpacked all of our earthly possessions, the kids played with the unplugged telephones. Why are they so obsessed? Every time we are in a hotel they spend an insane amount of time making pretend phone calls.
The next morning we showed up at my dad's for the traditional made to order breakfast. Yes, my Harvard educated father impresses my kids with his eggs and pancakes. Ever the well-mannered kids, Christian insulted the bacon and stole my aunt's bagel. Sara decides she is going to spend the day with my dad and aunt (without asking them first). After Christian's nap, we meet the family for lunch. Christian barrels in, grabs a waiter, places an order and sits down. Sara and my dad share their traditional soup. I take Christian to a friend's house. Sara decides to bond with her teenage cousins with my dad playing chauffeur. Seriously, she has him wrapped around her finger. He would rob a bank for her if she asked and justify it as a necessary monetary transaction. That night we had a family dinner at my brother's house. See a pattern here? We show up at people's homes and they feed us. The next few hours are a blur of the kids running around like maniacs trying to play pool. Or convincing Christian that the bear skin rug on the wall will not come to life and eat him alive.
Saturday was spent trying to keep Sara and Christian from falling in the river while feeding the ducks (throwing bread at them) at the cider mill. Saturday night started with trying to convince Christian that wearing a tie and dress shoes will not inflict fatal pain. We also had to convince Sara that my dad's birthday party is not the time or place to show off her new baton twirling skills. The kids were fairly well-behaved at the party. Only one coat rack was knocked over. Christian gave a wonderful toast. Well, he stood up and screamed "happy birthday, Boppy!" I thought it was cute. Some people looked vaguely frightened. But, really, at this point they should really know what to expect from my kids when they are out in public. And they have to put up with us because they are family.
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