Our Crazy Road Trip: Day 11

No vital stats today. Pat worked, and the kids and I hung around the lodge doing pretty much nothing. It's a little far to walk from our cabin to the lodge dining room and pool lugging Chachi, so I just let the girls sit in the front seat Brittney-style and drove from here to there. Fi kept asking me, "Aw yoo dyveen, Mama? Tan I dive?" She was totally serious too. What a little crack up! We went swimming mid-morning and played a rousing game of mermaids who chase, catch, cook and eat different flavored sea monsters. The jacuzzi was broken, so we were confined to the slightly chilly pool (I am denying my intentions of flagrantly violating Montana State law by allowing my children under the age of 5 to partake in hot tub bliss). The rest of the day was corn dogs, checkers, dominoes and naps. Well, Maddie didn't take a nap. I thought there would be no pictures today, but she chronicled her activities while the rest of us were snoozing. It's kinda fun; you can really create your own story.

Chocolate Chip Cookie Face's self-portrait

Apparently, there was some Play-Doh fun had as well.

Fiona's Flock of Seagulls 'do

I loaded the kids up in the car after naptime to go out to dinner in town. However, all of the restaurants seem to double as casinos and lounges, and I wasn't sure about going into them alone with the children. I opted to head back to the lodge for dinner. Turns out it was pizza night, and the pizza was pretty tasty.

In other news, Charlie is getting so big and strong that he can wriggle himself out of his carseat and his swing if he's not strapped in. Fiona's new thing is to start every sentence with "How about...?" As in "How about we hahv some ice team?" or "How about yoo tate a pitchuh ov dat?" Maddie tried out swearing. Before we left, she was playing Mario Kart with Rhonda, who obviously made some bonehead move on the track, and admonished her with a "What the hell are you doing?" She was heavily involved in a Polly Pockets drama in the motorhome and I overheard her state, in her very high pitched drama voice, "I'm just really pissed off!" Then, as we were stopped for gas in Idaho, she dropped something and said, "F*&%!" We don't really cuss, especially not around her, so I don't quite know where she picked up this scallywag language. I reprimanded her each time, and I think she is now over it. It reminds of of Scout in To Kill A Mockingbird asking Atticus to "pass the damn ham." Good thing it's not Fi. That child is impervious to all forms of discipline. Ok, enough rambling. I gotta get to bed. This Mountain time zone is killin' me!

Al Bundy signing off