Vacation

Here are a few moments from our vacation.

First, Isaac enjoys the lap of luxury know as "the king-sized bed Mom and Dad slept in at the luxury hotel." What could be more fun than the realization that one can reach his own toes? And seriously, is there a better thing to play with than the booger bulb? I don't think so.

This one shows Owen in my parents yard during some sprinkler fun. I was very impressed that Minnesota was not the normal humid, hot mosquito pit it normally is in July. And the kids enjoyed every (almost) bug-free moment they could. It was refreshing to let them go outside and just play. We didn't worry that they would be kidnapped or that they might get into something they shouldn't. They could just play. Too bad we had to drive 16.5 hours to get them to a place where they could have such freedom.

Ansel Adams eat your heart out. I love this image. My dad and Rhianna on the tractor. So how many of you remember Bill Cosby's bit on parenting? This was a key example of "these are not the parents who raised me."

Dad let both Owen and Rhianna drive the tractor. He manned the pedals, of course, but they were doing most of the steering. This is (supposedly) the same man and tractor that I was not allowed to drive until I was--wait for it--eighteen years old. Yes. I'm serious. I was doomed to upset the delicate pattern of the lawn mower tracks (like vacuum tracks but cooler) until I was legally permitted to vote, yet my son, who's idea of driving on a straight line brought his pirate-hat-made-from-newspaper wearing Granddad within one turn of barfing on his pristine lawn, was welcome to wrench the steering wheel from one extreme to the other. This could not be the same man who looked disapprovingly at my English papers. This is Granddad.

More trip details and thoughts to come, but this should tide you over for a day or so.