Vacation Part Three

This should wrap up our Pismo vacation story. I didn't intend it to get so long but, as usual, my mouth got away with me.

The first order of business our second day of vacation is breakfast. The downstairs lobby has a seperate breakfast section. I forgot to mention it has fruit in addition to the other goodies. However, fruit isn't in my kid's main fruit groups. Those would be sugar, starch, and soda.

The first thing I see is coffee. Unfortunately it isn't the first thing I grab. The kiddies are hungry.

I see frozen french toast. It's big, thick nice slices. I pop two slices in the toaster, grab some bagel and cream cheese, a banana (I never give up hope), and assorted drinks. That is one very full tray. Up to the room it goes.

I ask A and J what they want for breakfast. Of course, they want waffles. Why, you ask? Because that's what everyone else in the motel wants. Why should they be any different?

The waffles have to be cooked on a big iron. There are little individual cups of batter next to the iron so you don't overflow. (You know somebody would.) I start a waffle, grab more drinks (coffee included), and go upstairs. I set everyone up, run down to grab the waffle and am not sure how to figure out if it is done yet. (Next thing you know I'll lose my ability to pee in the toilet instead of on the floor.) A kind gentleman helps me. It is done. There is a line waiting for the waffle iron, but fortunately nobody calls me a dolt within earshot. Up I go with the first waffle.

Downstairs again. Did I mention the stairs on the hotel are outside so you have to use an exceedingly slooooooow elevator to get downstairs? Now there is a waffle line four deep. I get in line. It isn't moving. I realize Big Booty Bob is at the front of the line making waffles for his WHOLE family. I assume they number twelve. There needs to be a sign above the waffle maker stating that you can only cook two waffles at a time. THEN YOU NEED TO GET THE HELL OUT OF THE WAY! But morons like Bob would ignore the sign anyway, because they are rude people and the rules don't apply to them surely.

Finally I make waffle two. Back upstairs then down again. Time for my breakfast. I wouldn't mind a waffle but there is NO WAY I'm waiting in that line. Whatever I can grab quickest will do me just fine, because by now the natives are restless. They want to go to the beach. So what if I spent the last hour fetching their food? I'd better eat quickly and get my butt in gear - time's a wastin'.

So to the beach. This is when I'm so thankful for my spouse because we have to split forces. How do single mothers do it when they have more than one kid? A is content to play in the waves. But our little guy likes to run. The pediatrician says he is underweight. Go figure. Perhaps it is due to his inablility to walk. I take the little guy. Husband takes A. J is old enough to lay on a towel by herself while the guys ogle her. (She is built like a brick sh!@ house.)

Off we go, running down the beach. I try to keep my little guy from running through numerous baseball and frisbee games. He just runs and runs. We're getting far away from the others so I try to get him to run back the other way. This works with limited success until he sees the tractor. It is big - it is yellow- it has WHEELS - and we're gonna chase it. I'm glad he doesn't catch it, because that would be fun to keep him away from. But he runs for a long time trying. If I'd had a waffle, I would have worn it off by now.

The rest of the week goes much this way - fetching food, chasing kids, collapsing with exhaustion. The kids are having a blast and we're not having a bad time either.

Some highlights (and memorable experiences) of the trip -

When the baby was waiting for his bath (naked)- pooped on the floor and fingerpainted.
How much the kids loved the hot tub
The hole in the wall place with the kick-ass Mexican food was still there
Hubby trying to fly a three-dollar kite on the beach (didn't work)
Pismo fish and chips - the one meal we actually went to the restaurant and sat down
Going to Walmart - I can find Walmart no matter where we go
Watching J dance around in her bikini

Thanks for reading.
Carolyn