We had my side's family reunion over the weekend. My brother left early, so I was the only one that had a kid still in the single digits. Ask me how thrilled the innkeepers were that the thinness of their walls and transparency of the lace blinds were pointed out to the whole building at 5:30 each morning.
By Sunday Baby Boy and I were pretty much blacklisted from the "quaint farm" with "rustic touches" e.g. thousands of stuffed, ceramic and bronzed rabbits that my three-year old could not comprehend why he couldn't play with them.
So that morning we packed up, and much to my Darling Husband's dismay, went to a Science Museum. "But it's Father's Day and I wanted to go boating," he pouted. Happy to ignore yet another whiner, I pulled out the map of the outdoor section where it appeared there was a huge treehouse.
Baby Boy spent almost two hours in the treehouse climbing all around. By one, DH was ready to divorce me if we didn't leave. "Try to get him out," I said.
DH stuck his head up the tree and yelled, "I just saw a bunch of bees fly in the tree house! If you don't come out right now they are going to sting you all over!"
Sadly, this message found it's way not only to Baby Boy's ears, but to the 17 other children in the tree.
I think being blackballed from two places in one weekend is a record even for me.
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