We packed five sets of clothes and thanked my parents for investing in a washer and dryer a few years ago. When I was a kid, we had to walk up the street to get fresh water for Ora's Well. Okay, that is an exaggeration. The truth is that my DAD had to walk up the street to Ora's to get fresh water. When I was a kid, we had a large basin sink with hot salt water on one side and cold salt water on the other. We still don't have central heating and air, but we do have internet and cable television. ThankyouJesus!
Before we left for our summer extravaganza at the beach, I made a bunch of "tickets" (Birdie's word, not mine) and divided them into two categories: Inside and Outside. When we grow bored of the beach or it is raining, we pull a ticket. Today, the weather was not stifling so I changed our plans of heading to the pool and pulled a ticket.
Putt-Putt has evolved since the arcade was torn down and the putt-putt course demolished.
For one-- we have to pay and for two-- a parent has to be involved.
Excuse me? I can pay for myself to pick up a putter and the kids can play for.... free? Yes, please.
And I even had a coupon.
We were all having fun... until the shortest one found the water hazard... and then the kids started having a whole bunch-a fun and mom was a little, uh, soaking wet from the blue water.
I was assured by the guys who manned their stoner-summer jobs that the water is "extremely clean and the only reason it is blue is because of a very small dye pack." Yeah, sure. Whatever. I just need to know if Fuzzy is going to grow a third eye. If he is, I can bet money it will be a blue one.
Nine dollars, 2 hours, and 22.4 holes later, Birdie made the starling discovery that when your ball drops in on 18, it is gone. She cried. At that point, it was trifecta. Fuzzy cried when I finally pulled him from water- every time I pulled him from the water-- because there was definitely at least four times. Bennie had cried because ... well, I don't really know why she cried.
Apparently, it was lunchtime.