There's really nothing to tell -- picked the spawn up after camp and actually hit the road on time. Didn't forget to pack anything, made it to Ann Arbor in under an hour and found the hotel, no problem. The hotel wasn't too shitty -- the Hawthorne Suites -- kinda like a Red Roof Inn with a real tie instead of a clip-on. It seemed clean (no roaches or earwigs in the rooms) though I did watch a pill-bug make its way across the bathroom floor as I initiated the bathroom with the perfect dump. Actually, that was when I knew the trip would be a good one. Perfect dump = perfect trip. It was a "TNW" - a "technical no-wiper." I mean, I'd never be so confident as to actually "not wipe," but were I more of a derring-doo-er, I would've been resi-doo free. Why I'm telling you this, I know not.
So, we passed on the complimentary buffet dinner going on in the lobby -- it kinda smelled like a Godfather's Pizza place mixed with chlorine and a touch of assiness. So we retired to the room, found a nearby Cottage Inn Pizza (great pesto pizza), had a coupla "pies" delivered and let the kidlets watch "Hoodwinked" (again!) on the cable. Okay, that pissed me off -- 10 bucks for a movie?! That's about 4 bucks more than the people who made "Hoodwinked" spent on their animation software! But, fuck, the kids liked it and it helped them stop spazzing for an hour, so 10 bucks it was.
Oh yeah, before dinner we swam in the pool. Apparently, when the hotel advertises a "heated pool," it means... well, it means they're full of shit. My balls are still up around my neck after my initial jump into that fucking ice bath. But, again, the kids fucking loved it and I spent most of my time in the hot tub anyway, so it wasn't a problem. And that just reaffirmed the fact that the old lady and I have to get a fucking hot tub, and soon. Although, I think the one we get shouldn't have jets that blow bubbles straight up your poop-chute, like the one at the hotel did. Apparently, it was trying to work on my lower back pain from the inside out. And I didn't hate it, I have to say. Though it might have been nice if it would've bought me dinner first. Hello.
Okay... the movie ended and it took about 2 1/2 hours to get the kids calmed down enough to sleep. Mr. Z has (finally) learned how to make fart noises with his armpit and had Miss O laughing until about 9:45 p.m., the exact time when I walked in and pulled out the old, "If you guys don't stop talking this second, we're going to forget the parade tomorrow and just load up the car and go home." Which they knew was complete bullshit, but they must've felt sorry for me or something because they indeed piped-down.
This morning, we got up, had a mildly nauseating breakfast in the lobby/buffet area, took another perfect dump, drove into Ann Arbor proper, found a parking spot and an ideal spot for watching the parade. And I can't tell you how much I want to live in that town. It's everything that our town is not. It's hip, it has great restaurants, great stores, the people are alternative -- WAAAAH! I WANT TO LIVE IN ANN ARBOR! Although I'd still be sitting in my basement all day, so what the fuck does it really matter?!
So, the parade was fine -- lotsa sirens, convertibles, democratic candidates, wacky moustachioed, olde-fashionede bike riders:
I could've certainly done without the one float called "Huron Valley Parents of Multiples." I've never seen anything more horrific in my life. I had to cover Mr. Z's and Miss O's eyes to protect them from those replicants. Now, you know I have a (well-founded, mind you) irrational fear of twins, triplets, and whatever other abominations of nature out there that walk amongst us humans. There were swarms of them in the parade, smiling their identical smiles and staring through me with their lifeless clone-eyes. Yeesh, I'm getting the chills just thinking about it. I would've taken a picture, but everyone knows that they don't show up on film. Look, parents, if you have multiples, keep them to yourselves. I'd rather not know they're out there.
There was also a great anti-war group that marched, banging drums and cowbells and bottles and shit. We were going to march with them but realized the kids wouldn't be able to see the parade then, so we just cheered extra loud when they marched by. Mr. Z saw some old guy carrying an "Impeach Bush" sign and asked if we could get one for our front lawn. I tried to explain how that might piss off a couple of our more conservative neighbors and we finally decided that we're going to get some "Another Family for Peace" bumper stickers for the car. Maybe as a treat, I'll make him a "No Blood for Oil" birthday cake.
So, the parade ended and we trekked on over to Zingerman's Deli, another incredible Ann Arbor institution. Great breads, bagels, cheeses, sandwiches, etc. -- but because it all has "flavor" and isn't called "T.G.I. McHoolifucks," it'll never see the light of day in our shit-ass town. We chowed down, sandwiches, fancy soda pops, GELATO!, and picked up two dozen REAL bagels to take back with us. I swear, if I had more (any) motivation, I'd look into starting a franchise around here. Though it would never fly here -- the town just went BLOOMIN' ONIONS because an "Outback Shithouse" just opened up near the mall. Morons.
So, that's basically it. I'm too tired to finish the story. We got back, had a water-balloon fight, unpacked, had dinner and put the spawn to sleep. No fireworks tonight. I mean, it's impossible -- it doesn't get dark here until about 10 p.m., and there's no fucking way we're keeping them up that late.
You know what, fireworks can wait. Along with sunsets. Give them something to look forward to when they go off to college.
1 comment:
My favorite libral bumpersticker - "I was born just fine the first time."
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