My hair is dripping, my tummy is full of soft lime cookies, and my body has tanned into a checkerboard of pale and burnt. Thats right, I'm on vacation.
Performing an impressive clown car act my family and I squeezed into our suburban on Friday with bags, towels, and what my mother calls "a small snack". (Aka three tubs and one cooler of crackers, salad supplies, cheese, ham, bread, and very possibly the kitchen sink.)
We have a tradition when leaving on a trip to say our farewells as we go. For example the little girl's were "Goodbye, Wallmart! Goodbye, Baby Chicks! (and when passing the local biker bar) Goodbye, Beer!". Some of the others are really telling of what kind of a place Jefferson County (or Metherson County as it is called) is. "Goodbye, Mystery Jerky Man! Goodbye, Tattoo Parlor and adjoining bakery! Goodbye sewage pit called a "scenic pond"! Goodbye, Drug Den! Goodbye, Lumpy's Eatery!"
On our way to our week-long vacation in Branson we stopped in Rolla (aka 'where all the good men have gone') to see my brother's new house he shares with 5 buddies. It was a college man's paradise; flat-screen tv where you can see every actor's pore, a ridiculously large sound system, video games galore, and more protein shakes and junk food that you can stick a deep-fried twizzler at. The tough-man persona was slightly undermined however by my brother's cute dolphin shower curtain.
Lunch was a foreign affair at a Japanese/Chinese hibachi grill named Koi. The atmosphere was suprisingly authentic with the shoji screens, antique oriental wall ornaments, and the chef who performed the art of hibachi with twirling knives and impressive tricks. The dead-giveaway that we were still in Missouri however was the twangy country music.
Most of the drive I really couldn't tell you about since I was sound asleep in my red snuggie cocoon. I didn't really wake up until we were in Branson driving to our condo and stopping at a gas station for a bathroom break. Being the excellent big sister I am I allowed my little sisters to take wrapped peppermints from strangers outside the gas station. But theres no reason to worry, they people were a kindly older couple dressed up as Mr. and Mrs. Clause and driving a tooth-ache red convertible. Totally trustworthy. Probably.
The huge swimming pool with fountains, mini golf course, rustic country landscape, lake, lovely condos, and complimentary krispy kreme are all wonderful but by far the jucuzzi next to my bed is the best. Forget the bed, I'm making plans to eat, read, and possibly sleep in that bubbly vessel of luxury. Now if I could only figure out a way to blog in the tub, too....
Sunburned Sleep,
Hannah
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