Hey, now I can finally write about my vacation! Exciting, no?
Two weeks ago this Tuesday, Robbie and I boarded a Southwestern flight out of Houston to beautiful San Diego, California, for my sister's wedding, my grandmother's birthday, and some general family Good Times. (Kim and Isaac came, too, but they didn't fly out until the next day) It wasn't Robbie's first flight, but the other ones have already faded into that realm of the Lost Memories of Early Childhood. He did really well. The flight itself wasn't so hard on him; it was the sitting still that got to him. Even with that, though, he didn't complain for most of the flight, and he complained quietly when he did. The flight was smooth and we arrived in San Diego right around lunch time. My sister picked us up from the airport, which is only a stone's throw away from the harbor.
San Diego is perfect. Next summer, all my Houston people and I are going to open a summer theater in SD and spend the whole summer there. The temperature got into the eighties maybe once while we were there and there was a constant refreshing breeze coming in off the ocean. Just perfect. By contrast, when I got off the plane back in Houston at 10 p.m., it was warmer and more miserable than it had been at any point during my stay in San Diego.
I'm going to come right out and confess it: I coveted San Diego summers as soon as I stepped out into the outdoor air.
We spent a few hours on the harbor, eating pizza, watching the boats come in and go out. Robbie loved the harbor. In fact, "harbor" became the new vocab word for the vacation. Not long after Kim stepped off the plane Tuesday, Robbie said, "Mommy, do you know what a harbor is? A harbor is a place where the boats go when they are not working to rest." We also caught sight of a military aircraft carrier (are there commercial aircraft carriers?) sailing in. That can only mean that our navy is mobilizing. So we're probably about to go to a war at sea in southern California. Regardless, it was cool to watch the ship, you know, move (as opposed to the "on display" aircraft carrier that you had to pay eleven bucks to go on).
After the harbor, I got ready for Brad's bachelor party while Christa got Robbie ready to go to a friend of hers' church block party. It had an inflatable water slide, so it was almost as cool as Kansas to Robbie. Unfortunately, due to traffic they didn't make it until it was late evening and thus not warm at all. (Apparently, in non-Houston places, it actually cools off at night, even in the summer. I think this is called El Nino, but I'm not sure) However, a three-year-old's body apparently doesn't register things like "hypothermia," and so he asked to play in the water again and again, even when his teeth were chattering and his limbs were shivering. (Don't worry, "hypothermia" was an exaggeration in this instance)
As for the bachelor party--well, you know. What happens at the bachelor party stays at the bachelor party.
Also: what happens at the bachelor party full of fairly stable thirty-somethings is really not all that incriminating anyway.
