A popular occurrence on Twitter is what we call Follow Friday. Or #follow #friday. Or #ff. It's a specific day when Tweeters suggest to the Twitter world some profiles they believe we should follow. It really is neat, especially when you're new to Twitter, and several people give you a #ff shout out. It can get you followers. It can give you people to follow.
I want to start doing my own version of the #ff right here on this blog.
If you follow any of my blogs, you've probably discovered that I am completely in love with a little boy named Bug. Well, Bug actually has a family, even though they don't get talked about as much - a little brother named Peanut, a mom (Bug's mama), a dad (Bug's daddy), and a dog named Tessa (or, in early Bug-speak, "good girl"). I truly love the entire family. Bug's daddy is my cousin. We've known each of each other since he was a small child, but have only really known each other since early 2003. We quickly became very close friends, and for several years, I spent as much time with him and his family as I did with my own (we only live an hour or so apart). In 2005, he rocked my world by expressing interest in - gasp! - a girl.
I know. Rude.
I tried really hard not to like her (ok, I really didn't try that hard). But I could see that she was around for the duration, so I slowly...slowly......slowly.....got to know her. They got married the next year. For the first year(ish), I visited other cousins in the area, but never specifically visit the newly married couple. In fact, I never saw their first apartment. I admit, I was having trouble adjusting to the new dynamic in my relationship with them. And then, one day, a Bug was born. And my cousins became Bug's mama and Bug's daddy.
I met Bug when he was just 9 days old, and knew my life would never be the same. I visited again several months later, and again a few months after that. And then, suddenly, I was seeing them every month or so. As I fell more in love with my boy, I discovered that I'd never really gotten to know Bug's mama. What a waste of the past 2+ years!!
As the next 2 years went by, I began spending as much (or more) time with Bug and Bug's mama than I did with Bug's daddy (not intentionally, but we no longer based my visits strictly on his work schedule). And Bug's mama became one of my best friends, and probably the one person that I am the closest to in this world (outside of my own mama).
The relationship was cemented that winter day when Peanut came into the world.
In the 14 months that Peanut has been on this earth, I have visited them 13 times. Bug now knows (and calls me by) my name. On my last visit, just two short weeks ago, Peanut was trying to say my name. When I visit, the boys know that we WILL watch Disney movies. We WILL wrestle and tickle. We WILL go out to eat somewhere. Cameras WILL come out, and pictures of anything and everything will be taken. And maybe the best part of all (well, maybe not better than the Disney movies, but close enough), thrift stores WILL be visited.
I come from a thrifty family. The women in my family LOVE shopping at thrift stores. I have never liked them. I don't know why, b/c someone one else can shop at a thrift store for me, and I'm fine with it. But I just can't shop there myself. However, in friendship, I tag along when visitiing Bug and his family. And over the weeks and months, I've discovered that I really like thrift stores.
In the past few visits, I've gotten several books (for pennies), unopened wallpaper border (enough rolls to decorate a bathroom, once I get my new house - for a few quarters), an argyle sweater vest ($3 - AND it's argyle!), and along with my own finds, I've helped in finding toys and argyle sweater vests for Bug and Peanut.
FYI, I love argyle sweater vests almost as much as I love Bug and Peanut.
And now, I'm sure you're asking, "She started out talking about Follow Friday, and went off on a tangent about the kid - he's cute, and all, but what does he have to do with Follow Friday?" Well, you see, as I've just explained, Bug's mama is the one that introduced me - REALLY introduced me - to thrift stores. She finds all kinds of treasures when she shops, and she comes up with all these great ideas just by looking at something on one of the store shelves.
And best of all, she has now started blogging about her thrift store adventures.
So, do yourself a favor. Check out Thrift Store Hoppin', and tell her I said, "Hi, Bug!" She'll laugh, and know exactly who sent you.
Showing posts with label Bug. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Bug. Show all posts
Friday, March 16, 2012
Thursday, March 15, 2012
Two Weeks in Hell
The Discovery Channel calls the US Army's Green Beret selection process "Two Weeks in Hell." Well, let me just tell you, the Green Berets ain't got nuthin' on me!
Two weeks ago, I posted my latest blog challenge entry. I finished the end of my work day. I sat around for an hour after work, watching Netflix on my office computer, while waiting for my younger brother to get out of his staff meeting (he's a staffer for the local University radio station - and since I work at said University, where he is also a student, we carpool. Thursday's are late nights). I was at the beginning of the final 24-hour countdown to Friday evening, and leaving for a long weekend in South Carolina, visiting my Bug.
I am so in love with that boy!
Anywho.
Friday afternoon, the clock reads 4:30pm. And the phone call comes. "Mark's been in an accident. They're taking him to the hospital by ambulance. We have no other details."
Mark is my brother-in-law. He drives a motorcycle.
I ran from my office to my car, which is farther than I've run in a LONG time.
The drive to the hospital, which is only a few miles from where I work, seemed to take an hour. As I pulled into the parking lot, I passed my sister-in-law just getting out of her truck; she informed me that she dropped my sister off at the emergency room entrance on her way in (sigh of relief; my sister did not drive herself into town). I find a place to park, and head in. My nephew and his wife meet me at the entrance.
Known injuries at the time: broken arm, broken collarbone, possibly broken nose.
No report on what happened, who was involved, or where it happened.
The emergency room vigil begins. The minutes pass in a blur of phone calls, people arriving, others leaving, updates and speculations. After about an hour, a hospital staffer comes and takes us all back to a private waiting room in the back of the ER, just around the corner from the bay they have Mark in. More people arrive, more phone calls are made. My nephew is doing an wonderful job of handling the swarm of people, and running interference on everyone who wants to go see Mark. After awhile, I ask him if I can step back for just a minute, to let Mark and my sister know that I'm there.
Mark is lying flat on a bed, with my sister holding an ice pack on his nose. He is alert and talking, albeit it softly and with much effort. My sister is much calmer than she was when she was on the phone. She wants to know what time I'm leaving for South Carolina.
Really? I'm at the hospital right now. For your husband. Who was just in a motorcycle accident. I may not even be going to South Carolina!
Back in the waiting room, friends bring us some supper. I'm surprised by how good the grilled chicken wraps from McDonald's are! But maybe it's simply that they were paired with McDonald's southern sweet tea, which I've not had in a month. Or maybe it's that I'm starving!
An hour or so later, Mark is finally moved to a room. At approximately 8:45pm, I make my way to his room. My family proceeds to kick me out, telling me to go to South Carolina as I'd been planning for so long. Part of me feels guilty for leaving, but part of me (the part that has already spent too much time in hospitals, the part of me that is thinking of my last emergency room visit when Daddy died, even the part of me that just simply craves a hug from a Bug) really wants to get the wheels on the road. With promises to check in frequently, and to return immediately if needed, I get in my car and head out of town.
While all of the hospital drama has been going on, another kind of drama has been making it's way East through the US. A massive stormfront has been moving through, leaving death and destruction in its wake. This is not an exageration.
As I hit I-85N, I turn my XM radio to CNN and listen to the weather reports. The system has entered GA, and Rome has reports of tornados. One of my best friends lives, with his wife, in Rome. I pray.
Now Dallas has reports of tornados. My friend's parents live in the area. I pray.
I'm approaching the South Carolina state line, and my weather radio goes off. I have codes for GA and SC programmed into it, and live smack dab in between several NWS branches. This is probably not a good alert.
Johns Creek and Cumming are under a tornado warning. My nephew just moved from Johns Creek; we all still have friends and family in the area. I pray.
At this point, I'm on SC 11, with only 10-12 miles left on my journey. All I want to do is reach the house before the storms hit, and without hitting any deer (SC 11 is a long, dark road through the mountains).
Five miles to go. My weather radio sounds again. I grab my phone and call my mom. "Are you home or still at the hospital?" She's home. " Did you know you're under a tornado warning?" Yes, her weather radio went off, as well. They're in the hallway. "I'm staying on the phone with you until I get to the house." But, of course, what do you say to someone who may be seconds away from taking a trip to Oz?
I reached Bug's house, talk to my mom a few more minutes, tell her to keep me informed, take a few seconds to just. stop. and. breathe. And I go inside to love on my Bug. Who is, of course, up way past his bedtime. But what can you do when you're under a tornado watch, and you have company coming in, and family keeps calling or stopping by (because, hey, there's a tornado watch, don't you want to come over to the house with a basement???)? You let the kid stay up until the ruckus dies down.
At one point, I worry that I've left my sunroof open (I worry about this a lot, even though I'm a bit OCD, and close/turn off everything in my car in the exact same order every time). Bug's dad goes out to check on it for me, in the pouring rain. He comes back in a few minutes later. He has closed my sunroof, and cleaned the water out of my front seats. This has not been my night.
For the next couple of hours, I snuggle (read: wrestle and tickle) my Bug, visit with my cousins, listen to the raging storm outside, get updates on Mark, and finally, around 2am, we all drift off to our various rooms and beds, and we sleep the remainder of the night. We have no tornados.
The rest of the trip was BUSY, but relaxing in its own weekend-in-South-Carolina way. The one dark cloud was the true telling of Mark's injuries: broken left collarbone, broken left shoulder blade, broken right arm, all of left ribs broken, some of right ribs broken, broken nose, partially collapsed lung, fractured vertebra, compressed vertebra. No sign of spinal or brain damage. It's going to be a long road to recovery.
By the time I return home, my neck and shoulder have tightened up, and I've got inflammation in my arm, shooting pains down into my elbow. I've got another week before I can get to the chiropractor. That week of days is spent working, going to the hospital, getting food for those staying at the hospital, updating friends and families, getting updates from friends and family, preparing for an upcoming Bible assembly, classes and workouts. Finally, Saturday arrives, and I head off to the first day of a 2-day Bible assembly. I'm ready for two days of spiritual refreshment, spiritual refinement, and spiritual butt-kicking.
I promptly walking into the assembly hall, turn, and tear cartilage in my hip. Again. Second time in a month. Third time in a year. I spend the next two days sitting in (formerly comfortable) auditorium seats, trying not to breathe anymore than I have to. The in my arm is now connected to the pain in my hip.
The stress of the past 10 days, the pain from my arm and my hip, and the act of being in a crowd of 1200 people (which, normally, I can handle at this facility, but with all the things talked about above....) all combine in one crashing wave, and I find myself, on several occasions, breaking down into tears.
Three days later (which adds up to: yesterday), I finally go to the chiropractor. A 45-minute massage is followed by some rehab, and then a wonderful adjustment which puts my hip back where it is supposed to be, evens out my leg length, corrects some facet placement in my neck, and realigns my ribcage. I bite the bullet and buy a new pillow while I'm there, something I've been thinking of doing, but really, who wants to spend $45 on a tiny pillow?
This morning, I woke up. Relaxed, refreshed, with no low back pain, no headache, and a much less-noticable throbbing in my arm.
I think my two weeks in hell are over.
I deserve a medal.
Two weeks ago, I posted my latest blog challenge entry. I finished the end of my work day. I sat around for an hour after work, watching Netflix on my office computer, while waiting for my younger brother to get out of his staff meeting (he's a staffer for the local University radio station - and since I work at said University, where he is also a student, we carpool. Thursday's are late nights). I was at the beginning of the final 24-hour countdown to Friday evening, and leaving for a long weekend in South Carolina, visiting my Bug.
I am so in love with that boy!
Anywho.
Friday afternoon, the clock reads 4:30pm. And the phone call comes. "Mark's been in an accident. They're taking him to the hospital by ambulance. We have no other details."
Mark is my brother-in-law. He drives a motorcycle.
I ran from my office to my car, which is farther than I've run in a LONG time.
The drive to the hospital, which is only a few miles from where I work, seemed to take an hour. As I pulled into the parking lot, I passed my sister-in-law just getting out of her truck; she informed me that she dropped my sister off at the emergency room entrance on her way in (sigh of relief; my sister did not drive herself into town). I find a place to park, and head in. My nephew and his wife meet me at the entrance.
Known injuries at the time: broken arm, broken collarbone, possibly broken nose.
No report on what happened, who was involved, or where it happened.
The emergency room vigil begins. The minutes pass in a blur of phone calls, people arriving, others leaving, updates and speculations. After about an hour, a hospital staffer comes and takes us all back to a private waiting room in the back of the ER, just around the corner from the bay they have Mark in. More people arrive, more phone calls are made. My nephew is doing an wonderful job of handling the swarm of people, and running interference on everyone who wants to go see Mark. After awhile, I ask him if I can step back for just a minute, to let Mark and my sister know that I'm there.
Mark is lying flat on a bed, with my sister holding an ice pack on his nose. He is alert and talking, albeit it softly and with much effort. My sister is much calmer than she was when she was on the phone. She wants to know what time I'm leaving for South Carolina.
Really? I'm at the hospital right now. For your husband. Who was just in a motorcycle accident. I may not even be going to South Carolina!
Back in the waiting room, friends bring us some supper. I'm surprised by how good the grilled chicken wraps from McDonald's are! But maybe it's simply that they were paired with McDonald's southern sweet tea, which I've not had in a month. Or maybe it's that I'm starving!
An hour or so later, Mark is finally moved to a room. At approximately 8:45pm, I make my way to his room. My family proceeds to kick me out, telling me to go to South Carolina as I'd been planning for so long. Part of me feels guilty for leaving, but part of me (the part that has already spent too much time in hospitals, the part of me that is thinking of my last emergency room visit when Daddy died, even the part of me that just simply craves a hug from a Bug) really wants to get the wheels on the road. With promises to check in frequently, and to return immediately if needed, I get in my car and head out of town.
While all of the hospital drama has been going on, another kind of drama has been making it's way East through the US. A massive stormfront has been moving through, leaving death and destruction in its wake. This is not an exageration.
As I hit I-85N, I turn my XM radio to CNN and listen to the weather reports. The system has entered GA, and Rome has reports of tornados. One of my best friends lives, with his wife, in Rome. I pray.
Now Dallas has reports of tornados. My friend's parents live in the area. I pray.
I'm approaching the South Carolina state line, and my weather radio goes off. I have codes for GA and SC programmed into it, and live smack dab in between several NWS branches. This is probably not a good alert.
Johns Creek and Cumming are under a tornado warning. My nephew just moved from Johns Creek; we all still have friends and family in the area. I pray.
At this point, I'm on SC 11, with only 10-12 miles left on my journey. All I want to do is reach the house before the storms hit, and without hitting any deer (SC 11 is a long, dark road through the mountains).
Five miles to go. My weather radio sounds again. I grab my phone and call my mom. "Are you home or still at the hospital?" She's home. " Did you know you're under a tornado warning?" Yes, her weather radio went off, as well. They're in the hallway. "I'm staying on the phone with you until I get to the house." But, of course, what do you say to someone who may be seconds away from taking a trip to Oz?
I reached Bug's house, talk to my mom a few more minutes, tell her to keep me informed, take a few seconds to just. stop. and. breathe. And I go inside to love on my Bug. Who is, of course, up way past his bedtime. But what can you do when you're under a tornado watch, and you have company coming in, and family keeps calling or stopping by (because, hey, there's a tornado watch, don't you want to come over to the house with a basement???)? You let the kid stay up until the ruckus dies down.
At one point, I worry that I've left my sunroof open (I worry about this a lot, even though I'm a bit OCD, and close/turn off everything in my car in the exact same order every time). Bug's dad goes out to check on it for me, in the pouring rain. He comes back in a few minutes later. He has closed my sunroof, and cleaned the water out of my front seats. This has not been my night.
For the next couple of hours, I snuggle (read: wrestle and tickle) my Bug, visit with my cousins, listen to the raging storm outside, get updates on Mark, and finally, around 2am, we all drift off to our various rooms and beds, and we sleep the remainder of the night. We have no tornados.
The rest of the trip was BUSY, but relaxing in its own weekend-in-South-Carolina way. The one dark cloud was the true telling of Mark's injuries: broken left collarbone, broken left shoulder blade, broken right arm, all of left ribs broken, some of right ribs broken, broken nose, partially collapsed lung, fractured vertebra, compressed vertebra. No sign of spinal or brain damage. It's going to be a long road to recovery.
By the time I return home, my neck and shoulder have tightened up, and I've got inflammation in my arm, shooting pains down into my elbow. I've got another week before I can get to the chiropractor. That week of days is spent working, going to the hospital, getting food for those staying at the hospital, updating friends and families, getting updates from friends and family, preparing for an upcoming Bible assembly, classes and workouts. Finally, Saturday arrives, and I head off to the first day of a 2-day Bible assembly. I'm ready for two days of spiritual refreshment, spiritual refinement, and spiritual butt-kicking.
I promptly walking into the assembly hall, turn, and tear cartilage in my hip. Again. Second time in a month. Third time in a year. I spend the next two days sitting in (formerly comfortable) auditorium seats, trying not to breathe anymore than I have to. The in my arm is now connected to the pain in my hip.
The stress of the past 10 days, the pain from my arm and my hip, and the act of being in a crowd of 1200 people (which, normally, I can handle at this facility, but with all the things talked about above....) all combine in one crashing wave, and I find myself, on several occasions, breaking down into tears.
Three days later (which adds up to: yesterday), I finally go to the chiropractor. A 45-minute massage is followed by some rehab, and then a wonderful adjustment which puts my hip back where it is supposed to be, evens out my leg length, corrects some facet placement in my neck, and realigns my ribcage. I bite the bullet and buy a new pillow while I'm there, something I've been thinking of doing, but really, who wants to spend $45 on a tiny pillow?
This morning, I woke up. Relaxed, refreshed, with no low back pain, no headache, and a much less-noticable throbbing in my arm.
I think my two weeks in hell are over.
I deserve a medal.
Tuesday, January 24, 2012
Day 4 – Where do you live? Have you ever lived in another country from where you do currently?
I live in NE Georgia. I won't give specifics, but I do work at the University of Georgia, so you now have the general area of my existence. I'm close enough to Atlanta to drive down for something special (like, the PBR's Atlanta Invitational, to which I now officially have tickets!!!), and close enough to Greenville to drive up for the same things. Situated between those two major cities, I have various family members that I can easily visit at most any given time.
I've lived in Georgia for most of my life. I was born in Florida, and lived there for almost 2 years, before moving to Atlanta. I lived in the suburbs of Atlanta for 22 years before moving up near Athens. A year later, I moved briefly to Phoenix, Arizona, and then returned to the Athens, GA, area. Since then, I've been close to moving on several occassions, always with the intention of making my way permanently back to Florida. I now know that I will never return to live in Florida, unless major changes happen. I am in love with a little boy in South Carolina, and don't know how I could live without being able to visit him atleast once a month. He's my <3. South Carolina is where I will be.....soon, very soon, I hope.
I have never lived in another country. I've visited several, but never for more than a day or two at a time. I once considered the idea of doing some missionary work in Mexico, and I won't rule that idea out, but at this time, that plan has been tabled.
I've lived in Georgia for most of my life. I was born in Florida, and lived there for almost 2 years, before moving to Atlanta. I lived in the suburbs of Atlanta for 22 years before moving up near Athens. A year later, I moved briefly to Phoenix, Arizona, and then returned to the Athens, GA, area. Since then, I've been close to moving on several occassions, always with the intention of making my way permanently back to Florida. I now know that I will never return to live in Florida, unless major changes happen. I am in love with a little boy in South Carolina, and don't know how I could live without being able to visit him atleast once a month. He's my <3. South Carolina is where I will be.....soon, very soon, I hope.
I have never lived in another country. I've visited several, but never for more than a day or two at a time. I once considered the idea of doing some missionary work in Mexico, and I won't rule that idea out, but at this time, that plan has been tabled.
Wednesday, January 11, 2012
A Bug Goes to the Zoo
(simultaneously posted on A Mousecacher in Disney's World)
Just three weeks after FINALLY having custom orthotics made, I decided to give them a true road test. On October 15, Bug and Peanut brought their parents down for a trip to Zoo Atlanta and the Georgia Aquarium. They picked me up early in the morning, and we made the trek to Grant Park, home of the zoo. It was their first visit. It was my first visit since 1991. I don't know who was more excited. They were all excited about seeing the animals, I was excited to watch Bug as he saw the animals.
As we're walking through the entrance, the conversation went something like this:
Me: "Bug, what animal do you want to see today?"
Bug: "Giraffelephant." Yes, that is one word.
Me, laughing: "The giraffelephant, huh? Well, what about brother? What animal does he want to see?"
You must remember that Peanut, at this point, is only 9 months old, and doesn't really grasp what animals are.
Bug: "He wants to see the pig." Matter-of-fact. Peanut wants to see the pig. I love this kid!
One of the first exhibits had just what Bug wanted. A giraffelephant. Or, maybe it was an area that had BOTH a giraffe AND and an elephant together. Either way, he was happy! I think he would have stayed there all day long, if only we'd let him.
Along the way, there were gorillas, lions, tigers, pandas, snakes (Bug wasn't impressed with those), a naked mole rat (I don't know if he liked Rufus, but he sure liked the tunnel going in and out of the exhibit), birds, flamingos, gators, and a petting zoo.
There was also Dippin' Dots.
Peanut wanted ice cream, too, but we made him stick to banana puffs.
Later on, Bug convinved me to pose for a picture.
We ended the visit with a ride on the train and the carousel (Bug wanted nothing to do with them until we were on them, then did not want to get off. Peanut liked them from far away, but was not so keen on the actual experience. What can you do?), and then headed back to the parking lot for a well-deserved picnic. After filling our bellies and resting our feet, we drove about 3 miles to another parking lot, and prepared to enter the Georgia Aquarium.
This was, as with the zoo, their first visit. I, however, am an annual passholder. Having experienced the aquarium before, I was able to concentrate what they wanted to see. It is so much fun to see something through the eyes of a two-year-old! Much like at the zoo (look, Bug, it's Timon and Pumba! Look, Bug, it's Simba!), several animals were identified by their proper Disney name.
Much like at the zoo, Bug did not want to pet the animals.
Much like at the zoo, Bug somehow convinced me to pose for a picture.
Bug surprised us all by his reaction to the shark tunnel. Being scared of everything else, we fully expected him to be terrified of a tunnel surrounded by sharks and other somewhat frightening marine life. Not the case, at all. I do believe that his favorite part of the aquarium was the tunnel. We had to end the visit by going through the tunnel one last time. All the way home, Bug kept pointing out tunnels (underpasses, parking garages, anything that resembled a tunnel).
It was days later that I realized: There are almost no pictures of Bug and Peanut with their parents! There really were two other adults on this trip! I promise, there were!!! I guess I monopolized the kids. Oh well, consider it preparation for a trip to Disney. Bug's first trip to Disney World is in the planning stages!
And just in case it's slipped your notice, I am so completely in love with this kid!
Just three weeks after FINALLY having custom orthotics made, I decided to give them a true road test. On October 15, Bug and Peanut brought their parents down for a trip to Zoo Atlanta and the Georgia Aquarium. They picked me up early in the morning, and we made the trek to Grant Park, home of the zoo. It was their first visit. It was my first visit since 1991. I don't know who was more excited. They were all excited about seeing the animals, I was excited to watch Bug as he saw the animals.
As we're walking through the entrance, the conversation went something like this:
Me: "Bug, what animal do you want to see today?"
Bug: "Giraffelephant." Yes, that is one word.
Me, laughing: "The giraffelephant, huh? Well, what about brother? What animal does he want to see?"
You must remember that Peanut, at this point, is only 9 months old, and doesn't really grasp what animals are.
Bug: "He wants to see the pig." Matter-of-fact. Peanut wants to see the pig. I love this kid!
One of the first exhibits had just what Bug wanted. A giraffelephant. Or, maybe it was an area that had BOTH a giraffe AND and an elephant together. Either way, he was happy! I think he would have stayed there all day long, if only we'd let him.
Along the way, there were gorillas, lions, tigers, pandas, snakes (Bug wasn't impressed with those), a naked mole rat (I don't know if he liked Rufus, but he sure liked the tunnel going in and out of the exhibit), birds, flamingos, gators, and a petting zoo.
There was also Dippin' Dots.
Peanut wanted ice cream, too, but we made him stick to banana puffs.
Later on, Bug convinved me to pose for a picture.
We ended the visit with a ride on the train and the carousel (Bug wanted nothing to do with them until we were on them, then did not want to get off. Peanut liked them from far away, but was not so keen on the actual experience. What can you do?), and then headed back to the parking lot for a well-deserved picnic. After filling our bellies and resting our feet, we drove about 3 miles to another parking lot, and prepared to enter the Georgia Aquarium.
This was, as with the zoo, their first visit. I, however, am an annual passholder. Having experienced the aquarium before, I was able to concentrate what they wanted to see. It is so much fun to see something through the eyes of a two-year-old! Much like at the zoo (look, Bug, it's Timon and Pumba! Look, Bug, it's Simba!), several animals were identified by their proper Disney name.
 |
| Dory! |
Much like at the zoo, Bug did not want to pet the animals.
Much like at the zoo, Bug somehow convinced me to pose for a picture.
Bug surprised us all by his reaction to the shark tunnel. Being scared of everything else, we fully expected him to be terrified of a tunnel surrounded by sharks and other somewhat frightening marine life. Not the case, at all. I do believe that his favorite part of the aquarium was the tunnel. We had to end the visit by going through the tunnel one last time. All the way home, Bug kept pointing out tunnels (underpasses, parking garages, anything that resembled a tunnel).
It was days later that I realized: There are almost no pictures of Bug and Peanut with their parents! There really were two other adults on this trip! I promise, there were!!! I guess I monopolized the kids. Oh well, consider it preparation for a trip to Disney. Bug's first trip to Disney World is in the planning stages!
And just in case it's slipped your notice, I am so completely in love with this kid!
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