It is 9 in the morning. Super Toddler has consumed 3 packs of fruit snacks. We have been in the car for 8 minutes. Super Toddler could easily eat his weight in fruit snacks, and I, like every other mother in America, let the fruit part ease my guilt as I hand them to him. Gummy Buzz-Lightyear-shaped candy just doesn't have the same ring, eh? But whatever it is called, it is keeping him happy on this 4 hour car ride and that is fine with me. It isn't like I am gonna win mother of the year anyway, after the committee gets a look at our floors, pantry, or Netflix history. By the way, does that simply exist to shame me with its sheer volume of Backyardigans? But I digress.
We are heading north to my parents' place, a 5 acre "farmette" where Super Toddler actually took his first steps. 11 of them, running straight down a hill; one of the scariest/happiest moments of my life. It is a good place for kids to play/scare the living daylights out of you, and we are leaving them there with my parents, overnight, for our first adult vacation in 3 years. This vacation will consist of nearly 2 days and 1 night in a town about 2 hours away, but it might as well be the Bahamas because we will have no kids for about 30 hours! (PS....don't call it a "farmette" in front of Grandpa Awkward.)
We are trucking along nicely when the rumpus starts. Super Baby is asleep, which should come as a surprise to no one...I think that child might be a vampire. But Super Toddler is waging war back there with a cornucopia (aka Toy Store backpack) full of magical creatures. The fact that these magical creatures are incognito should also come as a surprise to no one. Apparently, the dragon (aka dinosaur) and his minions (aka Dr. Doom and a robot) are attacking the prince (aka Luke Skywalker) and his buddies (aka Spiderman and somehow also the same robot), so the fairy godmother (aka toy car...even I had trouble figuring that one out) gives the princess (aka Strawberry Shortcake) a magic wand (aka toy carrot) which she uses to poof the dinosaur, I mean dragon. However, in the poofing, the dragon somehow ends up being hurled at the back of Awkward Dad's head. This results in the confiscation of said dragon, which results in the rumpus from the backseat. And it is time for lunch.
We stop at a family restaurant that we have been at before, remembering their clean highchairs and the absence of patrons sensitive to random toddlers screams. We always seem to eat at this place around a holiday, last time being near Christmas. Then, along with a ton of jolly Santa cut-outs and glittered mangers, the pictures on the wall were all wrapped in festive paper with enormous bows, which sent present-loving Super Toddler into raptures. This time we are dining on Veterans Day, which taxes the decorating skills a wee bit more than Christmas, but the proprietor has stepped it up remarkably. There are numerous flags and thank you troops signs flanking the register, and a rather impressive window cling of the flag raising at Iwo Jima graces the front picture window. Nestled in the fall display of leaves and pine cones on our table, is a little thank you note to the troops, surrounded by 4 army men. Seriously creative. In danger of being destroyed by an overactive toddler, but creative.
Lunch proceeds in its usual unusual fashion. We switch chairs and confuse the waitress because the toddler can't stand to be apart from Awkward Dad for a moment. Super Baby consumes all of three spoonfuls of applesauce before deciding that the bowl, and its contents, make a better hat. Super Toddler declares a hankering for sausage, and then eats 1 bite. He does, however, eat nearly all of my french toast, spilling most of the syrup in the process. The syrup makes its merry way onto all of Super Toddler's clothes, amazingly, even the spare ones in the diaper bag. The syrup also lands on my shoes, in Awkward Dad's pockets, and in Super Baby's hair. Super Baby has quite the organic scalp treatment going on there. Awkward Dad announces that his chicken wrap is too "eggy," given the presence of mayonnaise, which leads to an argument about whether or not one should assume mayo will be the de facto condiment on any given sandwich. I say yes, given that we are at a diner in the Midwest, the sandwich is referred to as a "traditional"chicken wrap, and I have absolutely no issues with mayonnaise. Awkward Dad claims the mayo "snuck up on him" and all egg related foods (condiments or otherwise) need to come with bold type warnings. He has egg issues.
After a quick trip to the washroom to "de-sticky" the boys, we are back on our way to the farmette, bopping along to C is for Cookie. We are on the highway for 5 minutes before Super Toddler demands fruit snacks. And so it goes. We make it to the farmette in record time, some of the later speeding may or may not have been due to running out of fruit snacks. Super Toddler's delight upon seeing Grandma Awkward's horses causes yet another rumpus from the backseat, complete with flying fairies (aka toy cars), resulting in yet another confiscation of toys. Which results in the melt-down that Grandma and Grandpa are treated to as we fall into their house, right about the time that Super Baby decides to wake up, just in time to blow out a diaper. The Awkward family has arrived.
Wanna know if Grandma and Grandpa Awkward did indeed watch the super boys for 30 hours? You will have to tune in to the next episode of Awkward Mom!
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