We got home from Minnesota last night. Other than having to haul around a jug of my own pee, throwing up in the parking lot, getting stuck with needles, finding out that my abnormal protein is on the rise, and, worst of all, discovering that the Krispy Kreme Doughnuts location has closed at Mall of America, it was a really nice family vacation.
No, really, it was. I've experienced worse. There was the time my parents made me go white-water rafting, and ... oh, I can't talk about it.
We took WCB to White Bear Lake, Minnesota, a beautiful little suburb of St. Paul, where Jay and I lived for three years before we moved back to Kansas City. We walked around the lake and then went to a little festival downtown, where they had a little petting zoo. WCB was more into pointing than petting, but she really enjoyed it for a long time until a sheep tried to nibble on her toes.
We took her to The Mall, of course, and to a barbecue with friends, and to the Minnesota Children's Museum. WCB even got to spend a day hanging out with her future husband, Tom, age 2, but I'm beginning to have doubts about the marriage. She kept touching his Thomas the Train trains, and Tom made it very clear that he can't abide any woman who touches his trains. Maybe they can work it out in therapy.
Speaking of therapy: Something happened to WCB that I'm sure will haunt her for the rest of her life. We took her to eat at an Old Country Buffet. (Yes, I know that sounds traumatizing enough, but there's more.) Say what you will about good old Old Country, but it is the perfect place to take a baby. Kids under 2 get in free, and all of her favorite foods were right there at the salad bar: watermelon, cheese, green beans, oranges, cottage cheese. It's a baby feast.
So, there we were having a delightful time with WCB's cottage cheese, when the Old Country Buffet Bee began making his rounds. This was a guy in an enormous bee costume who was handing out balloons. WCB was terrified of the Old Country Bee. Whenever he passed by, she would forget all about her baby feast and shriek hysterically. The Old Country Bee kept passing our table, quite possibly because he is pure evil.
Jay and I started keeping a watchful eye for the Old Country Bee, so that we could take WCB out of her high chair and distract her before things got ugly again.
"Oh my God," I said, dropping my fork, "It's the bee."
We swung into action, struggling to unbuckle WCB's little seat belt as the bee drew ever nearer. It was like a scene from a movie in which the characters have 10 seconds to dismantle a bomb. You could almost hear the theme from Mission: Impossible.
Dun, dun, dun, dundun dun
The bee is by the meat-carving area.
Dun, dun, dun, dundun dun
He's approaching the dessert bar.
Doodly doo! Doodly doo!
WCB is out of her seat, and ...
Dun DUNNNNNNN ...
Despite our quick thinking, we failed to distract WCB from the OCB. We ended up leaving two plates of food and skipping our trip to the dessert bar. Curse you, Old Country Bee!
But other than that, again: Fun trip. Seriously.