It's Spring Break. I'll be dead before tomorrow. If I make it that far. Every year, I usually do something awesomely fun with the chicks. Last year, we went to San Diego. This year, Mommy doesn't have a job; we went to the museum. Okay, we TRIED to go to the museum. That whole entire area of Houston, albeit beautiful, sucks royal goat balls. First of all, whose damn near retarded idea was it to put the museum district, the zoo, a college, and a golf course near the MEDICAL CENTER?? I mean, seriously, wtf?? "Hey, Bob, here's an area where several hundred children are going to be hanging out! Let's ensure that speeding ambulances zip through here on an hourly basis!"
[I just cleaned The Munch's room with a garbage bag, and she's crying for her toys back. Bwahahahaha! NO. I think not, wee messy one.]
Okay, back to the craptastic design of Houston. So, it's Spring Break. EVERY SINGLE child-owning adult is in the area. Trying to find a parking spot. And there are none. There is not one freaking parking spot in the general vicinity. The closest one is about 5 miles away. AND, because it was so crowded, instead of bowing to the stop lights and letting THOSE direct traffic, the cops were out directing traffic themseleves. Yes, we all know how well THAT works. Note to Cops: My car is small, yet it can still run you over and hurt, so do not give me the stink eye when I cringe and beat my steering wheel because i've been waiting in traffic for 45 minutes to make a right turn and then when i get up to said turn, you toot your little whistle and tell me I can't. AAArrrrggggg!!!
I drove around for ONE AND A HALF HOURS trying to find a parking spot. And, I'm sure that i never really traveled more than a mile. It was awful.
At one point, i just became delerious and started laughing. I asked the girls, "Say, how's that backseat?" My answer (from Claire, the master comedian): "BORRRRRRIIIIIIINNNNG." I said, "Really? I'm having a damn near blast up here in the front seat! Dontcha wish you were hanging up here with me?? WOOOOOOOO!" They both just looked at me like I was certifiable, which, to their defense, I probably am.
I FINALLY was able to break out of the circle of hell that is N. MacGregor St., and we cruised through Memorial Park. We stopped at the picnic area. And i'll be damned if I didn't have to pee. I am NOT a public pee-er. UGH. They had those stainless steel toilets that harbor unknown diseases and the community toilet-paper roll that also harbors unknown diseases and is just moist-feeling and disgusting because it's been sitting in the outside bathroom for ages. And there was sitting water on the cement floor, cobwebs, and no doors to the stalls. It was a primo setup ladies. I wouldn't have sat on that toilet for a thousand bucks. Oh wait, i don't have a job. Anyone want to give me a cool G to sit on the silver potty? Anyways, after I scrubbed my hands raw with the super-sanitizing kit I carry in the Mini, we found a sweet little picnic area. We spread out our little blankie and had ourselves a picnic. Then we saw the big ants. The picnic didn't last long.
Today, we went to this place called "ITZ." It's like a Chuck E. Cheese on steroids. I hate people and their screaming little shits, so I made sure that we got there right when the place opened. It was pretty sweet--we had the whole place to ourselves for about 10 minutes, then some kind of random Baptist daycare showed up. Ah well, you win some, you lose some. We played the games for a while, waited in a short line to get on bumper cars, then found out that Clairey couldn't ride because you have to be 44 inches tall. Bummer. Clairey and I sat and watched Jenna bump into random people. That was fun. I don't think they enjoyed me yelling, "Go bump the shit out of that annoying little bastard! Don't let him do that to you! Give the little fucker whiplash!" Actually, I didn't do that. I spent the 2 minutes that Jenna was on the bumper cars, consoling Clairey, telling her that when she's 10 she'll be tall enough to ride.
After using up the majority of our game points, we wandered over to the buffet, which you HAVE to buy in order to play. Sweet baby Jesus...this place serves wine and beer. It is now my favorite establishment in which to bring my children. Nothing says, "i love you," like getting swilled while watching your children play in a germ-infested arcade.
After we ate, I wasted the last 20 points trying to win some kind of random plush bullshit out of one of those crane games. Why do kids want that crap? And then, when I don't win anything--because the 'crane' can hold 1 pound, yet the plush POS is 4 lbs--my kids are devastated. If i ever see someone loading up that machine, i'm going to punch them in the nads. And then steal a CareBear and call it a day.
Right now, the chicks are swimming. I can see them through the window--thought i'd add that in there in case anyone wanted to call CPS. I can SEE them. The water's frickin arctic, but i was sick of listening to them whine. I told them if they get pneumonia, I'm going to laugh and not give them medicine. They have to learn somehow--call it 'tough love.'