Saturday we tried to make it to Darien, CT to see close friends of ours and their three kids. We wanted Monkey to meet their twin daughters (not too different in age) and their son, and we were looking forward to just hanging out with friends.
Alas and alack, it was not meant to be. In the midst of the parking lot also known as the freeway south of Stanford, Monkey puked all over herself. At the first available turnoff we hit a CVS for some (more) wipes, paper towels, and a clean Hanes tshirt (you know, boys underwear). And home again, home again, jiggity jig we went.
Sunday was much more fun. M's company had its family picnic up in Tarrytown. Back in the car we went (and yes, I had washed the puke off the carseat) and boy was it worth it!
The company went all out, renting those inflatable obstacle courses you see at Church picnics or the carnivals that pass through town. Monkey jumped and jumped and jumped and jumped. And then jumped some more. She loved it.
Lunch and four tattoos later, we were all in the car, covered in cotton candy and happy as clams. I wish we could do that every weekend!
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