Momma & Poppa Goof have had numerous opportunities to go away sans kinder thanks to the good offices of the much maligned Bubbe Goof. But except for family trips to LA to visit los abuelos they have not really had a vacation. With all this in mind, when an inexpensive condo on Ocean City (downee oshun in Bawlamorese - let's see if I can fit in any more languages into this paragraph) we "jumped in it."
Part of the fun was not telling the kids. I wanted to just pile them into the car Sunday afternoon and start driving - and simply not responding to questions about "where we were going?" (I've done this kind of thing before.)
Momma Goof brilliantly concealed her travel preparations (amateurs talk strategy, professionals talk logistics - Momma Goof is a pro who would be at least a brigadier in any army) under the guise of getting stuff in order for a planned trip to LA later this summer. But, by Sunday morning the secret was becoming problematic, so just a few hours before leaving we spilled the beans. The kids squealed. They deserve this.
On the drive down, GoofGirl was a marvelous stereotype, constantly asking, "When are we going to get there?" She hasn't been on many long drives, we don't have a DVD player in the car, and she isn't quite a reader yet.
Our first day, it was raining, but that was ok. The kids watched TV - Cartoon Network's MadTV is really, really funny! I remain jealous of the quality comedy TV kids these days watch. Momma Goof and I sat on the porch sipping coffee.
The weather was still gray when we went out, for lunch, mini-golf, and shopping. The mini-golf was Viking themed and attempted to educate the players about Norse mythology (it was just over the border in Delaware, a weird little state!) We learned about Heimdall, a Norse here who had nine giantess mothers. The Jungian in me finds this fascinating, but the kids felt pretty sorry for him - one mother is enough for anyone.
Then it cleared and well, we went to the beach. I went for a run on the beach. The kids splashed and built sandcastles.
When we got back from the beach, I took GoofGirl on a little walk to watch the sun set over the Chesapeake Bay. Dinner was the inevitable pizza, the kids went to bed and MamaGoof and I had margaritas.
The next day was more of the same, with an added bonus that GoofBoy made friends with the neighbors who shared their fishing rods. Their own grandkids haven't got the attention span for fishing, but GoofBoy loves it.
I want there to be more jokes or a story. The jokes about our vacation are just to the right on my Twitter feed (@father goof). But I can't impose a narrative here. We are taking this week, making no plans beyond whether to swim in the ocean or the pool, and not doing much of anything. We are on vacation, we need it bad.