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This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License
Washington Island Experience
I am vacationing in Door County with my family, which includes my husband, seven year old daughter, parents, and two 14 year old nephews. We are staying in Fish Creek, but yesterday we decided to make a day of it on Washington Island. I’ve been to Door County many times in the last 12 years, it’s become a yearly excursion, and somehow we’ve never been to Washington Island. What would it be like? What would we do there? What adventure awaited us on the other side of the ferry?
There were seven of us, so we had to take two cars. Round trip tickets for a car is $24 (JUST the car), adults are $5.50 and children are $3.75. When we got off the ferry we immediately headed towards the Lookout Tower in Mountain Park where the view from the top of the tower was amazing! After that we split up for lunch, with my husband, daughter and I going to a restaurant on Main Street that promised breakfast all day, soup, sandwiches, wi-fi, and a baby grand piano in the dining room, oh and let’s not forget the kayak tours. Close your eyes and imagine it with me, do you see a fireplace? Someone playing the piano? Customers lounging around, laptops open, blogging away? Coffee bar perhaps?
Okay, now you need to snap back to what I’d like to call: the reality of island life. The restaurant was about the size of my living room, the baby grand was in the corner with a fence (FENCE?) around it, zero laptops, no fireplace, and only two other tables of customers. The waitress moved on island time, and she even stopped taking our order at one point so she could help someone else find a fork. However, it must be said that that was the best darn grilled cheese sandwich I’d had in a while. AND I was able to log onto wi-fi with my iPod Touch so I could email my brother and check on my dogs.
After lunch we met back up at Jacobsen’s Museum were we met a life long resident of the island. Then we visited an Art & Nature Center, where I searched for a painting to add to my Door County collection (didn’t find one though). My nephew bought a boomerang, which my husband immediately tried out in the parking lot. He threw it towards the woods, and I’m sure he expected it turn around right before the trees, but it didn’t, and my nephew had to trounce around in the trees until they found it.
Note to anyone with a boomerang: learn to use it before you throw it towards the woods.
We decided it was time to head back to the ferry. My dad’s car got on no problem, but we were told we’d have to wait an hour for the next ferry, so we pulled off to the side to wait. Next thing we know we are being waved ahead, once we got up to the ferry it was pretty clear that only one of those little Smart Cars would fit on the deck. The guy leans into the driver’s window and says to my husband, “okay, what you’re going to do is turn around here and backup onto the ferry, (and then he pointed) sideways there behind that car”. And then I looked and saw him point towards my mom, who was already rummaging around in the cooler that was in the hatchback of their Equinox. My husband and I looked at each other, surely this is a joke, right? He didn’t just tell us to back up on the ferry, did he? And then we laughed. And from the look on his face we realized that it wasn’t a joke, and that we were going to be backing up sideways on the little itty bit part of the deck.
So that was our once in a lifetime Washington Island experience. I think that it’d be a perfect place to go for a bike ride. Maybe next time!
Peach Doesn’t Drive Very Fast
And Peach also drives off the track. A lot.
We got Mario Kart Wii today, and my husband is very good at it, and I still suck! Even though now I get a steering wheel instead of that stupid joystick like the Nintendo used to have. Peach consistently came in 12th place (out of 12) tonight. I think she needs to practice her driving.
One time, when we were childless and just married, we had a Super Nintendo. We rented Mario Kart from Blockbuster for the weekend and played it for hours. I drove into walls, ran into banana peels, and fell off of cliffs. My husband circled the track like a Professional Race Car Driver. I never made it to the podium. Not even once. He even drove the car using his left hand only (he’s a righty), and sans glasses (he’s near sighted), and HE STILL WON!!! And I still drove into walls, ran into banana peels and fell off of cliffs.
There is hope for me. Right?
Wingdings
We were at dinner the other night at Pizzeria Piccola, where Zoe always takes a handful of crayons and a sheet of paper and colors while we wait for our pizza to be served. On this night she wrote my name, not M O M, but it was a picture of an owl, then a squiggly loopy line thingy, and then another owl. As all parents can attest to, there are times your child will hold up a picture, pride beaming in there face, and you have to quick try to figure out what it is, and the whole time you can’t let it show on your face that you do not know what it is.
Zoe pointed out: “Mom, I wrote your name.”
“In what, Wingdings?” I asked, thinking to myself, when has she ever seen the Wingding font?
After much explanation, and then pulling out a book from her shelf at home, it turns out that she was writing in hieroglyphics.
Let me repeat that: My seven year old daughter, wrote my name in hieroglyphics, from memory, out of a book she studied a month ago.
HIEROGLYPHICS.
Sometimes I think she belongs to Aunt Jacquie
If I can choose anything from my closet to wear on any given day I will choose a pair of jeans, my Mickey Mouse t-shirt (yes, I am 38 yrs old), and pair of flip flops. Of course, the moment I get home from work, the jeans come off and on go my favorite pair of Adidas sweatpants — they are close to disintegration, and on that day, I will cry. A lot.
Then there is my daughter. Zoe isn’t willing to pick out her own clothes on a daily basis, she cannot make that decision at all. Her seven year old mind is not up to coordinating a pink outfit from a closet full of pink.
HOWEVER, come Monday night when she’s getting ready for pajama storytime at the library? Well, that’s right there is a HUGE process that makes me think she really belongs to Aunt Jacquie, the auntie that actually coordinates her shoes to her belt to her purse to her earrings to her nail polish. We cannot leave the house for pajama storytime until Zoe has first picked out the very best pair of pajamas possible, and then she needs to determine which pair of slippers will match, and what would a pajama outfit be without matching hair accessories? And, of course, a matching stuffed animal too.
The fashion show that she puts on is something to experience. I mean, first I have to see all the slipper choices, then all the hairband/headband choices too. Last week she picked out no less than FIVE headbands — all of them purple — and she wanted to know which one matched the best.
They all look good, I told her.
But Mom, which one matches the BEST?
In the end we are quite the sight: Me in my black Adidas sweatpants, navy blue US Open sweatshirt with a hot pink tank top hanging out the bottom; And her in her clean purple pajamas, black ballet slippers (because ballet slippers count as SLIPPERS), matching purple hair scrunchie, and holding a stuffed dog (who was wearing a purple dress!).
I suppose I should be thankful that she’s not still in the pink and purple stage that she was about three years ago when she would ONLY wear either ALL PINK, or ALL PURPLE. That included underwear, and socks, and shoes too.
And gone are the days of her wearing odd outfits like this one.
Instructions on How To Make Your Hair Wavy
Tonight Zoe handed me a folded up piece of paper and told me it was instructions on “how to make your hair wavy”. Not that I need instructions on how to do that, because my hair is a couple steps past wavy.
Her friend at school wrote down these instructions, and I’m going to share them here in the event you’d like wavy hair too.
How To Make Your Hair Wavy
- Take shower
- Dry with towel
- Brush
- Puff with hand
- Let dry
The Little Itty Bitty Polar Cup, a rerun
This is a rerun, because every week someone googles Polar Cup and they land on this page. Today, Lucus left a comment on my Polar Cup post, which first ran in August of 2005, reminding me of our Polar Cup Adventure. So here ya go, one of my most googled posts ever:
I can’t believe I remember this, but then again, it was so funny when it happened, that I can’t believe that I could possibly forget it!
When I was about 17 years old (I’m 36 38 now, you do the math) my parents took us to Florida. We stayed with my uncle in Bradenton, which is near Tampa Bay. One night we were coming back from somewhere and we decided to go through the drive thru of this place called The Polar Cup, or something like that. They served a drink that was a lot like a slushy, and I think it was a lemonade flavor, not that it matters in this story.
Anyhow, there were five of us. My dad, brother, uncle and myself all ordered the gigantic cup. My mom asked for the smallest cup they had.
Polar Cup people: You want the smallest?
My mom: Yes, the smallest.
Polar Cup people: Are you sure? How about a medium?
My mom: I’m sure, extra small if you have it.
Polar Cup people: Okay. Drive around to the window.
My dad drives around to the window, forks over the money, and then one by one he is handed a gigantic plastic cup with a yellow cover and a straw sticking out. One for me, one for my uncle, one for my brother, one for my dad. Those cups were HUGE!!!! They had to of been at least 36 ounces.
Then out comes the final cup.
And it was about the size of a Dixie cup.
Oh my gosh, it was hilarious!!! My polar drink was coming through my nostrils, and I was dying I was laughing so hard!
Mom took her little itty bitty Polar Cup and sucked it down.
Ahhh! So refreshing!
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