Drop in the Bucket

C took today and tomorrow off so today we had a day with the four of us. Daddy, Mama, Elder Monkey and Younger Monkey. We ventured forth to breakfast, the Florida Aquarium, then to the International P'aza for lunch and a play area that wasn't sweltering.

Highlights of the day:

The Aquarium is expensive. But then I saw the admission prices for Sea World and quickly changed my mind.

According to the Elder Monkey the best three things that are worth seeing at the Aquarium are hammerhead sharks, leafy sea dragons, and stingrays. I'd have to concur.

Just because he can use the potty doesn't mean he'll always wipe. You will find this out when he starts walking funny in the long, hot trip back to the car.

I can't lurk too long on the fact that we are just like fish. There's way too many of us to know everyone that ever existed and that bigger one's will eat you if you aren't careful.

The Younger Monkey is just about too big for my shoulders. Realizing I am severely out of breath a lot and that my gym membership is currently a waste of funds.

The Elder Monkey is the biggest drama queen I've ever met. This is, according to her, my wife's payback for her childhood. Because I was a perfect angel when I was young. What. Put your eyebrows back down where they belong.

Changing a poopy diaper in a car in the rain is an interesting proposition. Especially, when you've no plastic bag to put it in or close method of disposal. The only thing appropriate to say in this case is "Oh, shit."

Spinning around fast to catch Younger Monkey by the collar in the parking lot will cause me to simultaneously squeeze the diaper in my hands out of panic. Thus making poop juice dribble down my arm. It's still raining.

Realizing that I still say "Ambercomby & Flinch" incorrectly. And that turning a corner to extremely large pictures of a man's abdominal region looming over me like an mythical beast can make me run for the hills.

The dapper gent who held the elevator door for us... and getting a new version of "the look" from your wife whose gaydar, unlike mine, seems to have developed into a sixth sense.

Driving around the block at home one more time so that C and I can finish singing at each other "Anything You Can Do", one monkey with hands over his ears, the other giggling ferociously. And then hearing him sing it afterwards.

Just like old times but without any earthquakes on the horizon.