Some people might look at this picture and think I am prematurely preparing our young hooligans for a life of street living. Believe me; this has crossed my mind on several occasions.
Others might see this as an early introduction to boxing, although by now both of my boys have the basic understanding of ducking and jabbing. Trust me.
For Peter and David, this was simply a morning exploration of the new caves that Papa built using a few leftover boxes from the move and an incredible wit and intellect that would make Einstein jealous. ‘Eee ekwals emcee skwared’ – ooh, real brain-breaking stuff, geniac. Sounds more like one notch above ga-ga goo-goo, if you ask me, which you didn’t, and you can see how much that has affected my caring level. Braniac, schmaniac.
I started the spelunkering adventure out of an urgent need to keep the boys preoccupied while Angie and I packed and got ready for our trip. We were going away for the weekend to attend a friend’s wedding. Or was it a funeral? Shit, I get those confused all the time.
One is when your pain and suffering ends one day and you enjoy ever-lasting happiness; the other is when you enjoy one happy day and then have ever-lasting pain and suffering. Ok, I am not good with details, but I know for sure that at the hotel, there is no sofa to which I could be kicked.
The ride itself was hell. For me, for Angie, for the boys, and for the ten gazillion truckers stuck in traffic who were forced to honk their horns every time Peter made his ‘honking’ sign. It was cute, say, for the first five hours.
After being stuck in the car for seven hours, let me just put it mildly and say the boys were slightly wound up.
Picture a champagne bottle that has been juggled for an hour by an angry clown. I know, they are all angry, but in my book, they have every right to be. Then imagine that pissed off clown, who may have been drinking just a little, throwing that bottle as hard as he could, thinking for some reason that the bottle was a boomerang. Nearby, some recovering hard-core junkie in the withdrawal stages of rehab happens to catch the bottle as he is practicing to break the world’s record for pogo jumping on a trampoline. In the words of another famous junkie, ‘I’m all shook up, uh-huh’. Thanks, Elvis.
We got to our final destination just at the moment when pogo-jumping freak-boy was developing a bad case of the jitters. The new electronic-sliding doors of our family van opened and two very pumped up midgets hit the pavement running. If you could harness that energy, I am quite certain that nuclear power would no longer be needed.
We hadn't eaten dinner, but Karin's Mom was nice enough to invite us over for original Thüringer bratwurst sandwiches. They were delicious, but Christoph had just fallen asleep and our boys were starting to literally bounce against the walls, so I took them out to a nearby energy park to let them burn.
Hotel La Goat was nice, in an oh-my-god-even-my-college-years-weren’t-this-bad kind of way. The boys didn’t seem to mind, though. After going to the kitchen and asking for a spatula, I was able to scrap them off of the ceiling long enough to get them tucked into their temporary beds.
As I finish writing this, they are snoring away in their strange beds. By ‘they’, I of course mean Angie. It may very well be that the other two beauties are snoring, but there is absolutely no way of confirming this. It would be like asking if the noise you hear is the Boeing 747 parked in your bedroom or the two portable fans in the other room. I should probably repeat – there is no sofa to which I could be kicked.
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1) What was the best part of your day?
Peter: When I go'ed with you to the playground and when I had some multivitamin.
David: When I stay with Peter and the elbow song.
2) What was the worst part of your day?
Peter: When we don't brought the football to play - I can't kick.
David: I not want Ladder Talk - I want to sleep.
3) What would you like to do tomorrow?
Peter: To go to Karin and Christoph and Lutz to their house but actually we are going to their wedding.
David: No - yes. Wedding.
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