Kangatopia

Kanga and the kids arrived in San Francisco yesterday evening. First, let me say that I cannot believe that they actually agreed to come. Second, let me say that since they did agree to come, how grateful I am that I didn’t have to make a trek to Texas in the freaking summer time.

My landlord* was putting the finishing touches on a replacement hardwood floor for the apartment next door, so the evening was spent accompanied by the sounds of a sanding machine. No matter: we ate tacos, we watched movies, Bear accompanied me on an errand and was freaked out by his first experience of an urban bus ride. Kanga and I drank pomegranate juice laced with sherry (no, really, it’s good, although I am not sure Kanga thought so), and generally, we had a pretty good evening. The evening ended with me sleeping on the couch, getting not a wink of sleep, and wondering whether I might have been able to get away with having Bear sleep on the couch instead of the waterproofed twin bed in the guest room.

Today, we woke up early. My deepest hope, that Bear would wake up in a bed unsullied by his baser fluids and thereby earn the right to sleep on the couch, was sorely dashed. Thank goodness I have my own washer and dryer these days. Following laundry duty, we ate a healthy breakfast of Captain Crunch, turkey bacon and sliced fresh peaches. Some of us took showers, and then we braved the bus downtown to eat lunch at the famous In N Out, see the sea lions at Fisherman’s Wharf and visit the Ripley’s Believe It or Not Tourist Trap Museum. On the way, many questionable characters fell in love with Monkey and Winston, bestowing on them lollipops, balloon animals, air kisses, and in one highly disturbing incident, actual skin contact kisses. This was promptly rubbed off by Kanga, who I am sure somewhere deep down inside is wondering if she needs to get Winston signed up for an HIV test.

Don’t worry, Kanga. I’m sure he only had cooties.

The taxi ride home (we learned our lesson on the bus ride out: San Francisco MUNI Buses + Children = Oh My GOD) was great. Sure, the kids kicked the back of the driver’s seat all the way home, but the driver took a shortcut, and by doing so, treated us to the scenic route. We got a first-class tour of the Marina, Golden Gate Bridge, the Presidio, the Seacliff neighborhood, Baker Beach, some dizzyingly beautiful views of the Pacific, and of course, the windmill at the foot of Golden Gate Park.

Of course, I got no sleep last night, so by this time I was EXHAUSTED. Kanga kindly allowed me to settle in for a short nap. The nap went like this:

giggle giggle giggle RUN RUN RUN open doors SLAM doors giggle giggle giggle
Winston: Wee-yum!
giggle giggle giggle RUN RUN RUN open doors SLAM doors giggle giggle giggle
Winston: WEE-YUM!!
Auntie Lisa: *blink blink blink*

The aborted nap was followed by 30 minutes of solitude whilst Kanga took the kids to the beach in order to coat them with dirt and sand, just in time for dinner. I cooked steak (well, cubed steak—but no worries, it’s all beef isn’t it?) in my much-loved grill pan, and assembled baked potatoes and baby carrots while they had showers all around. Of course, the baked potatoes were greeted with disdain, so the kids got boxed macaroni and cheese.

It’s now 8:00 p.m., and Kanga is on the phone and the kids are watching a movie. I’m typing. And my ass hurts. Oh, and Bear just ran in to give me a hug and tell me the movie is great and I need to come watch it.

I couldn’t be happier that they are here.

*For anyone who may have followed my previous adventures with the landlady from hell, I LOVE my new apartment, which is within walking distance of the beach, and my new landlord is a sweetie.