Posted by The Wizzle | Posted on Tuesday, December 4, 2007 at 9:37 PM
Well, we're back from vacation! I was more surprised than anyone at how little I missed my kids (I mean, don't get me wrong - I did *miss* them - but I thoroughly enjoyed myself and didn't lay awake weeping into my pillow even one single night). I guess it was time to have some uninterrupted marital bliss. Perhaps we should make it a habit!
We're very, very casually plotting our next vacation to Germany. I'll, um, let you know when those plans materialize. In about 20 years.
Here's a brief rundown.
Wednesday: Drop Devlin off at preschool, cry (hopefully inconspicuously), am unceremoniously ignored by my own flesh and blood who is deeply entrenched in a real-life Cars role-playing game of some kind. Finish packing in a wild frenzy, even though I started 3 days previously. Hand reluctant/wailing Evie off to Claudia and run out front door. Wait at airport for 2 hours in glorious, deafening SILENCE. Board airplane, ride 3 hours to Seattle while doing whatever I want! Listen to iPod? Watch a movie? Read a book? Have a snack and eat it all myself? Check! Arrive, drop luggage off at charming downtown apartment, don three additional layers of clothing.
Walk the streets until midnight, at which time - shocking! - people in this city are still awake and open for business.
Thursday: Roll out of bed at 10 am, decide to confine blatantly touristy activities to one day. Eat outrageously expensive (and delicious) lunch at top of Space Needle, decline helpful restaurant employee and take pictures with own camera for free.
View really, really big dinosaur bones and play with giant water guns at Science Center. Think repeatedly, "the kids would love this!"
Eat dinner and pretend to know the first thing about soccer with Mark and Jill Wareham, David's aunt and uncle, and their kids Dana and Casey.
Friday: Roll out of bed at 10 am, walk to 15th Avenue for shopping and lunch. Stumble upon pleasantly quirky upscale toy/gay party favor shop. Purchase hard-to-find Cars diecast toys by the armful. Concoct bald-faced lie about job transfer to the area and test drive one of my beloved Minis.
Nap! Attend Transfer concert at Fremont neighborhood bar High Dive, are informed by chatty drunken New Best Friend that females with short hair are evidently considered butch and available in Seattle. Pfffft.
Saturday: Just go ahead and pencil me in for rolling out of bed at 10 am every morning, thanks. Spend bulk of pre-lunch hours learning Heidi has delivered a juicy Gavin baby and feeling exceptionally guilty that her mother can't see them until we come home. Decide not to feel guilty anymore because there are no alternatives. Make pilgrimage through heavy snowfall to visit Nordstrom in the city that begat them all. Attend Steve Nielson's wedding reception on Mercer Island (ostensibly the reason for this whole trip).
Attend midnight showing of The Big Lebowski at fabulously tacky Egyptian Theater, clad in matching shirts overnighted to us just for this event. Dude!
Sunday: Hatch plan to visit juicy Gavin baby in Portland. Drive 3 hours through perfectly wretched weather and, blissfully ignorant, track mud all through the Bartles' formerly pristine living room. Hold, snoogle, photograph, and otherwise generally smother all three small Bartle boys.
Have great pleasure of teaching Heidi to wrap Gavin, also greedily take a turn myself. Fight urge to squeal audibly.
Monday: Visit Pike Place Market (ok, so we did two touristy days). Gorge selves silly at Beecher's Handmade Cheese, also buy cookbook in moment of weakness sure to haunt our waistlines for years to come. Vow not to eat another bite until we get back to Phoenix. Walk 2 doors down to Le Panier, gorge selves silly on chocolate croissants. Yes, plural. Arrive at airport, board plane, fly home, all the while again marveling at utter lack of responsibility for small noisy uncooperative persons. Arrive at Dixons', collect ecstatic children.
Tuesday: Spend too much time hugging and reading stories to get a picture.