Ho-tel, Mo-tel, Holiday Inn

I’ve spent the last few hours getting over my disappointment about the last second goal that Portugal scored in the World Cup against the USA team. What the heck? I didn’t even know I cared about the World Cup until a week ago when I began to channel some of the sports angst I normally reserve for college football into soccer.

And even though I’ve watched Caroline play hundreds of soccer games over the last six years, I still don’t understand so many things. Especially how long a game lasts. I think it’s supposed to be 90 minutes, but then all of a sudden they add five more minutes. Or just two more minutes. Or maybe ten minutes. It’s very confusing. I like my sports in concise halves or quarters. I need to know when it’s going to be over.

Also I couldn’t get over that they were playing in the Amazon heat and humidity. Some of you may remember that I went to the Amazon a few years ago and it’s the hottest I’ve ever been in my life. I nearly passed out wheeling my suitcase up a ramp to the hotel so I can only imagine playing 90 or 95 or 97 1/2 minutes of soccer in that heat. I almost had to put an ice cold cloth on my forehead while I watched because I felt so codependent about the conditions.

In non-soccer news, Caroline and I just got back from a fun little trip with Gulley and the boys. It was technically a work trip because I spoke at an event, but the event happened to be the Texas Aggregate Concrete Association and Gulley’s stepdad, Big, was Chairman of the Board. It also happened to be at the Four Seasons Resort in Las Colinas. And so Gulley and her boys went to support Big and I went to speak and brought Caroline along because it made sense to turn it into a mini-vacation.

(I need to clarify that I did not speak on the subject of concrete and/or aggregates. My knowledge of such is woefully inadequate, as evidenced by the fact that P constantly corrects me when I call it “cement”. Or maybe he corrects me when I call it “concrete”. I can’t remember. But I bet he’ll tell me as soon as he reads this.)

I actually spoke at a breakfast for the spouses’ that was hosted by Gulley’s mom, Honey, and talked about marriage. Not that I am an expert on the subject. It’s just more of a “we’re all in this together and does your husband also leave half a paper towel on the kitchen counter to save for later?” kind of talk.

When we checked into the hotel, Caroline was thrilled with our room. She ran from the bathroom to the bedroom and immediately put on the complimentary robe and helped herself to a pear from the fruit basket as she exclaimed, “They even have a hairdryer in the bathroom!” Which kind of makes me feel like we need to get her out of the house more often, although it was an exceptionally nicer hairdryer than most hotels.

We spent the rest of the day hanging out by the pool with the kids where they all enjoyed the time-honored tradition of taking the Nestea plunge even though they have no idea about Nestea. They also have no idea how thrilling it was to watch the Kool-Aid man come crashing through a brick wall. Which leads me to the conclusion that powdered drink commercials aren’t nearly as exciting as they once were.

Then later on Caroline fully embraced her resort experience by ordering a pina colada poolside.

In fact, we decided all the kids took to a resort like ducks to water. Will even declared that he was just waiting for someone to come take his lunch tray as he lounged in his pool chair which makes me think his reentry into the real world is going to be harsh because last I checked Gulley doesn’t walk around picking up lunch trays or putting paper umbrellas in drinks.

And then that night there was a banquet where Big got up and made a speech as outgoing Chairman of the Board and I thought it would be a great time to get a picture of the kids while they were all dressed up.

Yes.

So much for that idea.

Will ended up going home with Honey and Big and so it was just Gulley, Jackson, Caroline and me on the way home. Jackson and Caroline listened to music in the backseat while Gulley and I explored deep topics like how it’s bizarre to think about how women willingly walk around in swimsuits from June through August even though it’s basically just glorified underwear. There’s no way most of us would walk around in front of people in our underwear in November, but in August? Totally acceptable.

And at some point our play list of songs arrived at Rappers’ Delight by The Sugarhill Gang because we believe it’s important to educate our children on the classics. We also believe the children are our future, teach them well and let them lead the way. As we were singing along, I suddenly remembered something and asked Gulley, “Where were we when someone recognized Wonder Mike?”

She looked at me blankly and replied, “I don’t know. I don’t remember that.”

I said, “Yes. Don’t you remember? We were somewhere and he showed up! Where was that?”

I racked my brain for the next five minutes trying to remember where I saw Wonder Mike when I suddenly remembered that it was on American Idol. Wonder Mike’s daughter auditioned and he was there and they called him into the room because the judges wanted to meet him.

Needless to say, I was not there.

I watched it on T.V. and somehow made it my own personal memory of meeting Wonder Mike. I’m not sure exactly what you call this phenomenon, but I believe “sad” is one word for it.

Meanwhile, while we were gone, P was holding down the fort with these two. Also, they now sleep inside.

It only took them three weeks but they’ve officially trained us.