(Remember, sequels are NEVER better.)
We try to take a weeklong family vacation every summer so that I may make Shutterfly photo albums lovingly captioned with snarky descriptions of our hi-larious times together. This way, when the kids are in their 30's and complaining about their bad childhoods, I can throw my stack of family fun and nutty hijinx on the table and say, "What now, you ungrateful bastards!? You got nothin' on me and I have the Shutterfly books to prove it!"
As I mentioned in the last post, there was a lot of drama and even more Dramamine on the first leg of our trip. (Fear not, Gentle Readers, the worst part of the trip is now over.) We drove through Southern Illinois, which honestly makes Nebraska look a little exciting, and lo and behold, we saw a sign for Metropolis. Wha? You mean SUPERMAN's hometown? Current Husband is a huge fan of The Man of Steel, so SNAP! We fell right into the Tourist Trap.
Poor YD was still not feeling great.
But c'mon, honey, rally! It's Superman!
It's a bird! It's a plane!
No, it's my new gigantic knockers!
Able to leap bored housewives in a single bound?
I certainly hope so.
(And? When am I going to learn to
suck in my gut for pictures?)
At 11 p.m., we finally rolled into our friends' driveway in Atlanta. The family we visited moved from our hood over a year ago, and they're the kind of people who will not only let you fly your freak flag, they will raise your freak flag if it isn't up already. Needless to say, good time were had by all.
The kids played the "I'm the floating head creeping
in the back of your picture" game all week.
We occupied the kids so we could go out drinking.
(Oh put the phone down, they did it to themselves.)
And YD organized a game of Marco Polo,
but apparently she misunderstood the rules.
We really went to Atlanta just to visit our friends, so we didn't go out too much, and besides, it was about 175 degrees outside, plus humidity, which brought the heat index to 280 degrees. The only thing that could cure our Beiber fever was a bartender with cold chardonnay and a moustache tattooed on his finger. We were in luck.
He is known in Downtown Decatur as Chardonnay Tony.
We stayed up talking into the night. (Back to the friends, not Chardonnay Tony.) We awoke in mid-morning, and drank the best French press coffee ever. (Me and Tony. Obviously.) We ate. We drank. We lounged. Then we drank a little more. We watched the funniest damn PBS special ever, which my friend Angie gave to me and has absolutely changed my life, simply called "Ferrets". It about ferret breeders and the biggest ferret show in the country, The Buckeye Bash. Here is a little snippet for you, but I HIGHLY recommend you buy your own copy:
That damn ferret song goes through my head all the time. Then I made them watch this classic movie, because doesn't EVERYONE sit with friends they haven't seen in a year and watch ferret videos and cheesy 70's movies?
Oh yes, Barbra. My love for you is ageless and evergreen.
And thank you for covering Kris Kristofferson's nipple.
There are so many terrific things about spending time with people you love, but of course, all good things must come to an end. We pulled away from Hotlanta and headed for the hills of Tennessee, where we enjoyed our Family Stalker Adventure in Nashville. Stay tuned for Part 3 of "Get In The Van, I Have Candy". It's like you are trapped on vacation WITH me. The call is coming from inside the van...get out!