Friday was a bit of a bust. Kent actually agreed to go to Round Top (antiques galore, junk heaven, Kentie torture chamber of unhappiness) and we decided to make a day of it with Dub. We woke up early (7:30, egad!), packed a lunch, loaded the car up with tie-downs, moving blankets, our hiking backpack for baby, and set off like a herd of turtles.
We made it about half way there (45 minutes) and suddenly Wes puked ALL OVER himself. Carsick? Mostly milk and toast. MILQUETOAST! It was nasty, nasty, nasty. Of course, I didn't have a change of clothes for him other than some too-small cozy pants that were somewhat dirty and just happened to be in the car. Mother of the Year Award, coming soon!
We realized that Round Top was not going to happen and that we needed to go back... to the zoo? Yes, to the zoo apparently, because we popped into our house for clothes and then drove 45 minutes to the Houston Zoo which was a flaming inferno of heat and ended up being kinda miserable. We did enjoy watching Wes crawl through a tube under the Piranha tank though. Good times.
Later, we returned to a hot car that had been baking a puke-covered carseat for 4 hours, so that was fun.
Saturday felt bad for what his friend Friday had done to me, and so Saturday gave me some rain to make it all better. And it did.
