Finding time to update can be a wee bit tricky. Between the kids, work, cycling (which, granted, I haven’t been doing too much of lately), working out and Shep and his cats (aha! a real name soon to be replaced with a moniker once he comes up with one), Kangatopia gets pushed further and further down the priority list. So, then, I think about how the kids are going to read all of this later, and wonder why I never wrote about the events they remember best - ie, Monkey’s recital, Bear’s trip to see King Tut, Winston’s chronic scratching - and I feel compelled to open up the ol’ browser and disregard all of my other responsibilities until I have tapped out a few lines.
So, awhile back, my sister, the San Francisco treat, came into town and provided hours of entertainment for a few days to my kids until one day, Bear and I joined her on a not so big, but effective, plane that dropped us off in sunny Chicago. We checked into a hotel with a motel flair for a night while we went to the Art Institute to see famous and/or wonderful paintings and other works of art, and to the Field Museum where we immersed ourselves in lots of Egyptian artifacts, primarily the King Tut exhibit. My brother, who is now living in Ohio and has even - just to prove his comittment to the buckeye state (is Ohio the buckeye state?) - bought a house there, joined us on this adventure. Then, we jumped in my brother’s car and drove through Indiana - just stopping long enough to browse the many fine works for sale at the Indianapolis Fry’s. By the time midnight rolled around, we were pulling up in my brother’s Ohioen driveway.
After a few days of reliving our childhoods and related antics and playing with my deeply adorable nephew and bonding with both siblings and my brother’s wife, I hopped on a plane bound for home. Bear and my sister held on for a few more days. My sister then brought Bear home, and hopped her own plane for home the next day - but not before she fed us all up on Pancho’s, a place at which my children and I are probably now banned what with all the mess, the noise, and our jokes about Pancho’s tasty, if not lard encrusted, enchiladas.
That’s the nutshell version.
This entry was posted
on Monday, June 26th, 2006 at 4:47 pm and is filed under Bear Stories, Just Mommy.
You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed.
You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.