Mothers, mullets, and monster trucks

I guess I should preface this saga by saying that this weekend was kind of like Planes, Trains and Automobiles, The Mother's Day Edition. I'm not even remotely kidding when I say that at one point, we looked at each other and said, "What the fuck are we torturing ourselves like this for?"

As a little backstory, Monkey Man has had some allergy coughing going on for the last three weeks. On Wednesday night, he coughed literally all night long, prompting me to call The Most Wonderful Brother-In-Law In The World and ask for a prescription for antibiotics. So he started those on Thursday, and we thought for sure that Monkey Man would be feeling better in a day or so.

On Friday, I had to work a half-day and then went to Bobby the Hair Magician followed by an appointment with Dr. Greg to pick up my teeth whitening stuff that I won in a charity auction back in February. By the time I finished, it was around 4:30 so we didn't even leave town until about 5:15 to head to the beach.

Traffic wasn't bad at all considering that the Jamestown 400th anniverary was this weekend and we had to drive through the thick of everything. We stopped for dinner at a Texas Steakhouse and ended up not only having a good dinner, but a fabulous waiter who got us in and out in less than 45 minutes. The bad part - Monkey Man lost this little cheapo Transformer toy he got out of a pack of Lunchables, and we almost had a Mach 40 Meltdown but he pulled himself together and we got back on the road.

We got to the Hilton around 9 PM and after bathtime we all settled in for the night. Joey was in one bed, and Monkey Man and I were in the other bed. And this is where the nightmare started. The kid coughed literally every 3 seconds all night long. Sniffled constantly. And since he was hyped up on Benadryl, I was punched, smacked, scratched, elbowed, kneed, kicked, and every other injustice imaginable for most of the night. Around 2:30 AM, Joey announced that he was ready to go home, to which I sat up and barked, "Dammit, we're going to stay and have a good time if it KILLS ME." Yeah. One of my more stellar moments. I ended up constructing a very elaborate barricade of pillows between myself and Monkey Man to help protect my kidneys, reminding me of that line in Planes, Trains and Automobiles...."Those aren't pillows...."

At 6:30 AM Monkey Man woke up ready to start his day, so we did what any good parents would do - we parked his ass in front of the Cartoon Network (the only kids station they had and we NEVER let him watch it at home so it was like the forbidden fruit) and we slept another 2 hours. This would come back to bite us later.

We eventually got up, got ready, and headed over to Mary's Restaurant for breakfast. We've eaten there a thousand times - it's good food at cheap prices and a huge favorite with the locals. And as you can probably tell by now, we lucked out in getting the worst waitress in the history of the planet. Everything we ordered came out wrong. Everything she brought back to fix it was wrong. And by the time it all got worked out, it was all stone cold and then she argued with us about our bill. Finally we just paid it to get the hell out of there.

At this point it was 11 AM, so we hauled ass over to the monster truck show. We had decided not to buy tickets in advance because last year we had no problems getting them, not to mention we figured between the gloomy weather predictions and all the Jamestown hoopla it would keep a lot of people away. Well, apparently rednecks don't give a shit about what the weatherman said or James-what-the-fuck-ever-town, because the stupid show was SOLD OUT. Joey and I looked at each other in disbelief. What else could possibly, I ask you, go wrong?

So I suggested the aquarium, which is literally less than 5 minutes up the street. We got there only to discover that half of the facility is closed for renovations (which apparently have been going on for like 2 years). Disappointing, but we still had a lot of fun seeing the sea lions, the otters, and the special penguin exhibit.


Where we discover that Monkey Man is bigger than an Emperor Penguin, but just barely.














Fun with sharks. As in being eaten by sharks.













Finally, the day started looking up. We finished up at the aquarium and headed over to Malcolm's house (this is Joey's business partner/cousin). He was nice enough to take us out on his fancy-schmancy boat where we cruised up and down the beach and saw some dolphins and of course the infamous Pirate Ship.


The cheeseball, announcing "Nothing like a little rest and relaxation." He totally got into the boat ride.












Ahoy, me hearties!














We headed back over to the hotel where Monkey Man and I turned into pumpkins and crashed for a nap before dinnertime. Malcolm and Paula were nice enough to treat us to dinner at one of our favorite places called Il Giardino. Monkey Man proclaimed that it was one of the mostest delicious dinners EVER. So much for my idea of continuing to pass off jarred alfredo sauce as homemade. Oh, and did I mention the strolling violinist, who after playing the theme to "Titanic" (which I think is one of the cheesiest songs ever) retired to the bar area where he busted into "Devil Went Down to Georgia" so Monkey Man was in there shaking his little rump and charming the pants off everyone? Yeah, that's so my kid (except for the country music part).

We headed back to the Hilton, scared out of our minds what the night was going to be like. And you know what?

He didn't cough. Not once. He slept like a freaking rock.

We woke up so well-rested on Sunday that we had what I call sleep hangovers. You know, where you just feel a little foggy? But we pulled our shit together and met Joey's brother Kenny and his wife Susan over at Big Sam's for a little breaking of the fast before we headed over to the monster truck show. Which, by the way, we guaranteed our attendance at by scoring tickets at a local Ticketmaster outlet.

We got over to the beach area where the show was and the temperature was around 60 degrees, it was overcast and the winds were gusting around 25 mph. Not exactly the balmy afternoon we'd had on Saturday. We ended up hitting one of the tourist trap stores and buying sweatshirts and getting me a baseball hat and Monkey Man some snappy yellow sunglasses to try and protect ourselves from the wind and the blowing sand. I swear to God that it was so cold that I couldn't feel my hands and feet by the time the show was over.

Not sure who was more excited about Grave Digger - Daddy or Monkey Man

Monster Mutt in action in the Freestyle part of the show...

Megasaurus eating a car. Big hit with the five-year-old crowd, not so much with the thirty-seven-year-old crowd.

So after sitting in the cold for almost two hours being pelted with wind and sand, I was pretty miserable and ready to go. And that's when Monkey Man told me, "Mommy, this is the BEST Mother's Day EVER!"

The key to a great Mother's Day in our family...SURVIVAL!

Yeah, it got off to a pretty rocky start. And yeah, I spent my Mother's Day at a freaking monster truck show surrounded by mullets and tube tops. But you know what? It was worth it just to see the grin on that boy's face. And the big boy's face, too.