This weekend, Kealoha and I took the kids on our first Family Vacation. (It deserves to be capitalized.) Of course, we’ve gone up north to visit family for morel hunting, but this was different. This vacation included Chicago, traveling, the Field Museum, hotel, restaurants, and god help me, The American Girl store. Here are some highlights:
The morning of, Kealoha was so excited. We finally got the car loaded, everyone buckled in, kids hooked up with DVD players and emergency snacks, and Kealoha cried: “Alllll riiiight! Road Trip! Who’s excited?” (Silence.) Kealoha: Okay…who’s excited for their first road trip to Chicago!! (Silence.) ME: Yay.
Louis makes this begging-face he discovered on the 4th. He wanted more candy from the Hollyhock Parade so we told him to look, you know, like he really needed candy. He tilted his head, made his eyes look real big, and held up his hands to his chin. Then he sort of just sat frozen there and groaned a little bit. He does this all the time now when he wants something and I can’t help but think that people will think he’s ‘special’. Not that there’s anything wrong with ‘special’ kids, but you really shouldn’t steal their candy.
He did this face in the car and Kealoha and I started cracking up. Then Simone says in her 1930s Hollywood starlet voice “Don’t make fun of my bruder!” (I don’t know where she got this accent, but it’s achingly cute.)
Conversation with Louis in the car.
LOUIS: Mom? Mom! Mom, what’s the biggest hour?
ME: What do you mean what’s the biggest hour?
LOUIS: You know, what’s the longest hour? Like the biggest one ever?
ME: I don’t know how to answer that. An hour is a constant. Every hour is the same. The DEFINITION of an hour is that it’s sixty minute so no matter what country you’re in, your hour is always the same. It’s one hour.
LOUIS: Yeah. Okay. But what’s the LONGEST hour?
ME: (sigh) I don’t know. The longest hour I ever had was last year getting a root canal.
ME: Okay. Okay! Louis, the longest hour is fifty-nine. It’s fifty-nine.
LOUIS: Wow. That’s long. Fifty-nine.
SIMONE: Do they speak a different language in Chicago?
(Part two coming later. I've got to get ready to narrate.)