That's where I was all weekend. I think the 40's and 50's are done and now come the terrifying 70's-vacation slides. Because there's nothing to make a kid photogenic like 250 miles in the sweaty back seat of a Ford Maverick, then being dragged out for a picture in front of a historical marker half-covered in dust.
So there was that, and also converting this weekend's snowfall from driveway-blocking menace into mighty fortress to defend against any neighborhood yoots come to seek my wife's renowned banana bread.
Next up, an afternoon trip to the eye doctor's to help Noodle pick out a new set of eyeglasses. And doesn't this drag up old memories of my own trips to the opthalmologist where I'd be given the choice of the black Buddy Holly model or the brown Buddy Holly model - until Elvis Costello showed up and made those glasses cool. Obviously my having stumbled upon something in vogue was completely unacceptable to the parental powers that be of the day, and so those glasses were replaced by the kind you'd see on a doughy 45-year-old watching Da Bears over at the Swerski's. Yeah, great.
The same mistake is not being made twice with Noodle.