So this weekend, we swapped the 112 degree desert for the mountains.
It was a good trade.We decked out the rhino in her patriotic regalia for the neighborhood parade on Saturday in Payson.
Here I am with my (new) signature Flashdance hair.
Unfortunately, in the above headwear I look less Jennifer Connelly:
and more Slash:
Finally, we all jumped in, and Jake started the engine
We got about 20 feet before it sputtered, and then died. Dead.
The children wailed and gnashed, but then Jake ran back to the cabin for gas while I walked to the end of the parade route with the whiners in tow.
People threw stuff at them, like candy and otter pops.
They soon decided spectating became them.
High on sugar and America, we headed to the pool.
Where Sam had some very specific instructions for the face painting artist.
And Tommy didn't hate the cotton candy and sno cones.
and Jason, with Tom and Charlie, dominated the grill.
Camping is hard work.
I told Ross that roughing it is when you have to use regular yellow instead of deli mustard on your burger.
Fireworks were promptly at nine. But the kids were so excited about the glow swords and hats, I'm not sure they even glanced up.
We returned home last night to find the house infested with scorpions. Jake killed like 15 with the black light and one Converse All-Star basketball shoe, while I did my part by alternately screaming and breathing into a paper bag.
Tonight he found a bunch more, plus a flying beetle the size of a chinchilla.
The beetle's life was spared. It is probly still out on the driveway (shudder).