Of course, Amy had them in their cutesy matching outfits. I had an orange shirt and thought I could pass off as a pumpkin, but instead everyone thought I was a Halloween version of the Kool-Aid man. Gotta drop some weight.
I've heard going from two kids to three is a huge change. You effectively go from man-to-man to playing a zone. That's rough to switch your system and expect immediate results. Just ask Auburn (couldn't help that). The retreat was only a one-night event, so we weren't in too bad shape. The first night Amy took care of Jackson while I went to a desert thingy with the two little girls. All was calm until they discovered the chocolate fountain.
By the way, let's all admit the chocolate in the chocolate fountain really isn't all that great. It's simply the fact it's a fountain of chocolate. I haven't had the pleasure of experiencing a cheese fountain or ranch fountain (for my hot wings and pizza), but I eagerly look forward to it.
The girls went chocolate fountain crazy. Marshmallows and strawberries were being dunked like a mass baptism. Except on those little skewers. Maybe the baptism analogy isn't the best when those are brought into the equation.
After that I knew shuttling them off to bed wasn't going to work from the chocolate overload. Somehow I convinced them checkers was fun. Not sure how I did that, but gave myself a dad merit badge for it. Some creative rule-making during the match allowed them both to have a piece left. Both wanted to win. They even declared the last two pieces could jump each other (try it, doesn't work). As the grand pooba of ches-eckers (the chess pieces were more interesting, so they were effectively playing checkers with chess pieces), I declared a tie. The sisters kissed and it was off to bed.
The next day there were inflatable games (moonwalk, giant slide, and obstacle course), pumpkin carving, boat rides, crafts, and a petting zoo. I ended up in charge of Jackson. The first task was to take him on the slide. Pretty big. It was one of these things where you climb up between the two sliding areas, with these bars providing your foothold.
There are some activities not meant for big guys. Rock climbing, Chippendales dancing (despite Chris Farley's best efforts), and climbing an inflatable rank of there. Add the level of difficulty to helping/carrying a chunky almost-two-year-old up and it's a feat of survival.
We soon learned it wasn't a good idea for Jack to be around the pumpkin-carving table for too long when he decided he wanted to carve it himself, thus being the weilder of the butcher knife that could've slayed us all. He and I went to the petting zoo, where we remained for more than an hour. More. Than. An. Hour.
Jackson was most enamored with the little goats and pony. He kept referring to it as a horse minus the "s", which sounded like he was repeatedly berating the animal for its promiscuity. Here he's petting the llama. Llook, llamas may be somewhat llame to you llosers, but I llike them. However, I was on a higher level of alertness due to something I saw a llama doo (misspelling on purpose) in a parade once. It wasn't so much the action, but the trajectory and velocity with it. A neat little addition was in the cage behind the llama, which contained a spider monkey. I know some of you are wondering. No, there were no flagrant (yet hilarious) displays that would've led to an uncomfortable discussion on animal behavior and anatomy. He was a little gentleman.
Followed was a little hike down to the lake and, after waiting our turn, we were off on a short cruise. Soon we were dropped off for a lunch of barbecue ribs and chicken. Part of the desert were Rice Krispie treats cut into little squares. This is one snack I could eat and eat and eat. Put it in tiny pieces and I'll pop them in like tic tacs. Once in college I had a hankering for them and ended up spreading them on the cookie sheet not in a neat little flat area, but in layers like a cooled lava flow. Instead of cutting them up and putting them away like a normal person I left them and over the next few days would walk by and rip off a chunk like George "The Animal" Steele going after a turnbuckle.
