The trip was fun and a lot of times flat-out weird. We did a lot of things that we'd never dreamt of doing. There is one event that stands out, and the only one I'll bore you with:
So one of our daughter's big dreams is to swim with dolphins. Jay and I figured before we headed out on the trip, OK, piece of cake. No problem. We're headed to warm waters, shouldn't be too difficult a thing to find some kind of excursion with dolphins involved. We guessed wrong. Not one to be had. BUT! We found THIS:
|Yup...that's right. Don't they look cute in the picture?|
|Kingsford--who wouldn't want to hang out with a beastie that looks like that?|
|Yours truly having a grand old time with one of the pigs. Not quite Kingsford's size.|
|This gesture apparently means "Feed me NOW."|
They were HUGE. And HUNGRY. And to make matters worse, there was a really strong current there that made you have to keep swimming so that you wouldn't get swept away from the boat. Those freaking pigs made swimming against it look effortless. Not. So our pathetic, jelly-stung daughter missed out on swimming with the pigs, too, simply because the idea of picking her up a few days later on the coast of Cuba wasn't all that appealing. Personally I think she would have freaked the minute one of those hooves or snouts came into contact with her, anyway. Chaos averted.
And now it's back to reality. The laundry was crazy, but it's done. This was a portion of what I faced yesterday morning:
It took me around twelve hours to finish it all. And actually led me to be grateful for the meagre and terrible way Jay packs for himself when allowed, which to my chagrin usually leaves him for the last two days of any vacation mixing outrageous patterns and/or colors, or looking as monotone as the UPS delivery guy, all because he refuses to pack the least bit over what he believes he needs. And don't get me started on how he is always short a few pairs of underwear. Scariest of all, I think this way of thinking is following through to our son. To his poor wife-of-the-future, I'm sorry--it happened too fast for me to stop it, and now there's no correcting it. But I won't complain, because I think their lack of clothing chops saved me at least one extra load of laundry.
It's good to be back. As Martha Stewart would say, "It's a good thing." And now let the imperfections and dysfunctions resume on home turf.