kiwords

Ok, I suppose I should have mentioned this earlier, but we’re actually going to be on vacation for a while. Like, until the 13th. So if you get tired of hearing about our forays to the beach, I’ll understand. Just be sure to check in some time after that when I’ll get back to the more interesting tales of forays to…nowhere in particular.
One of the odd things about vacationing with kids is that it changes what you look at. For instance, we toured a lighthouse today. Question: is there such a thing as a non-historical lighthouse? You know, some large majestic building shining its light into the murky sea, about which locals shrug and say, “Oh that? I dunno. It’s always been there, I guess. Not that important, really.”
Well, if there is, this particular lighthouse wasn’t one of that sort. It was of the immaculately maintained, carefully documented, patrolled by museum volunteers sort of lighthouse. The boys had spotted its light out their window the first night we were here, and wanted to see it. So today we obediently trudged up to pay our admission and climb the lighthouse. The woman in charge of admissions was totally flustered by my boys, particularly Raphael. He wanted a wristband like everyone else, even though he was too young to have to pay admission. But he kept sticking his fat wrist out at her until she obediently wrapped a paper band around it. Then Max wanted one too, so she started on his. But she could hardly concentrate on that task because she was so worried about the fact that Raphael was in her lighthouse. You could tell by the look on her face that she knew, she just KNEW he was going to run and touch things.
Well, run he did. We were warned that a school group was closing in fast behind us, so we headed straight up the stairs. 129 stairs. Raphael wanted to be carried part of the way. We blew past any informational signs, urged on by cries of, “Come on!” and “We’re almost there!” and “Why are you breathing like that?”
We reached the top, took a few laps around, spent a few moments gazing down at the pool below, then the kids were done and ready to head down. On the way down we met the school group coming up. Tre and Max were in front, followed by Dad, carrying Raphael, then me, then Mom. The boys kept freezing in the face of hoards of middle schoolers, so Dad would tell them, “keep going boys. Keep going.” Raphael looked back at me over Dad’s shoulder and helpfully ordered, “Keep goin! Jus’ keep goin!”
When we got to the bottom we paused to watch an informational video. (Confession time here, I was only pretending to watch the video. I just sat down because my legs were so tired.) Anyhow, the video didn’t last long because Raphael was trying to break into some locked closets and Tre was jumping over benches. So we headed out to see some of the stuff in the museum. This didn’t last long because we were stopped by a school group. We waited to get by, and Raphael started running his Superman toy into the glass of one display case. He wanted the glass opened so he could play with the nice civil war diorama, and since I wouldn’t do it for him he was pretty sure Superman would.
A few glares later we skulked out, the important history of the lighthouse largely unlearned.
Total time in the lighthouse – 20 minutes – maybe.
On the other hand, this afternoon when we came back from the beach, I made three very sandy little boys rinse off in the outdoor shower. Now this was interesting. They vied for a position under the spray, made up little splashy dances, and nervously discussed how it was a good thing they had their swimsuits on. Wouldn’t want to be naked outside. This line of discussion caused Raphael to start peeling off his swimsuit, much to the horror of the other two. I convinced him to leave it on for now; got most of the sand rinsed of them and their shoes, and finally hauled them out of the shower and into their towels.
Total time in the outdoor shower – 20 minutes – at least.
And guess which event they talked about the most?