Sunday, July 10, 2011

All Aboard

After we slept off all the Sesame, we got up the next morning and waltzed down toward Franklin Square. On the way, we walked past Ben Franklin's grave.

I don't know why people treat it like a wishing well. I just gave my kids coins because I enjoy throwing away money.

Perhaps the most bizarre photo-op came courtesy of the nice lady walking past us who stopped and asked if we wanted her to take our picture. Check out how fabulously photogenic the Griffith family is below:

We should totally be in a JCPenney catalog.

It's not everyday someone approaches you about taking a family portrait in front of someone's grave. I want my face engraved on my headstone when I die so I can be in the picture, too.

There's nothing like looking at Ben Franklin's resume to make you feel inadequate:

Mine might read:
1981: Born in Falls Church, Virginia
1999: Passed high school pre-calculus
2002: Passed enough classes to graduate from college
2004: Went on a honeymoon
2005: Had a kid
2006: Had a kid
2007: Had another kid
2009: Became momcologist
2011: Went to amusement parks

It's almost as impressive as old Benjy's.

Someone in Philadelphia was quite handy with the sidewalk chalk.

I'd probably still flunk a history pop-quiz, even if I were taking it on this particular sidewalk. I'd just be staring at the pretty pictures.

We eventually reached Franklin Square, despite Daniel's cries that his legs wouldn't work anymore. They have a habit of crapping out on him whenever he has to walk more than ten yards and there isn't a snack nine yards into it.

The kids exercised while I stood there and took pictures.

(I have a thing against sweating.)

The carousel seemed neat. I only got this one picture on my way to the restroom.

I thought I'd have time to get a good one after I got out, but I ended up getting stuck in the restroom stall. Well, not literally stuck, but one of those Seinfeld moments where the time had passed for me to make an exit and I had to wait out the woman who had undressed and was giving herself a bath at the sink. I was in there quite a while.

Good thing I had sanitizer, because she used up all the soap and paper towels.

I got out in time to watch my family play putt-putt on the most adorable putt-putt course, ever.

They didn't keep score, but I'm pretty sure that Eve won since she didn't finish the second half of the course. That's a sure-fire way to make sure your score is lower than everyone else's.

Afterwards, of course, we needed more hot dogs. Matt got this beauty right here:

It was called a Philly Dog, described as a kosher all-beef hot dog wrapped in kosher salami, onion, cherry peppers, plum tomatoes, and mustard.

On paper, it looked like a completely unnecessary and unnatural thing to do to a poor, unsuspecting kosher all-beef hot dog but in real life it looked all kinds of awesome. You know what this hot dog is missing? Kosher salami!

It's like wrapping a link of sausage in a slice of bacon, which I think I may be okay with.

After that healthy snack, we jumped in the van and headed to Lancaster for the next leg of our tour. Destination: Fulton Steamboat Inn!

The Steamboat Inn scored their first ten cool points when they had freshly baked chocolate chip cookies at the front for anyone to help themselves. That's probably when my kids are the most helpful, when they are helping themselves to cookies.

The swimming pool was pretty sweet, too, although Eve was terrified for the first five minutes that real fish were coming to get her. It was only after we explained that the fish she saw at the bottom of the pool were made of tile and we stepped on them repeatedly without any squishy fish guts floating to the top, did she calm down and enjoy the water.

When you check into the Steamboat Inn, you get special hats that entitle you to free ice cream.

Adults weren't given any hats. [Insert sad emoticon here.]

We had a really good dinner, except for the potatoes. When a menu reads, "All entrees served with vegetable of the day and a potato," I assume that means a baked potato is coming, all hot and topped with lots of butter and maybe some bacon bits if I ask nicely.

I didn't expect the half-box of Betty Crocker scalloped potatoes in mysterious orange sauce. I'm not sure who Betty Crocker thinks she's fooling into supposing those potatoes are real. Is it even possible to cook an actual potato like that?

After dinner, the hotel clerk gave the kids some corn to feed the ducks. I encourage anything that leads to fattening up waterfowl which may end up as foie gras on a dinner plate in the not-too-distant future.

The kids also enjoyed the playground. All I could think was, "I wonder how much this play set would cost on Amazon?" To which I would answer: "We're in Amish country. They don't use Amazon and I can't afford an Amish carpenter, unless he is cool with getting paid in chocolate chip cookies, corn, and free ice cream hats."

This was our first time on a steamboat, and apparently Eve missed her cue to raise the roof.

I liked walking up to the cows and just staring at them. (You know, cows are big on hanging around steamboats.) Such amazing animals. They give us hamburgers and cheese, and the dark one in the middle gives us chocolate milk, according to Daniel.

No steamboat is complete without getting a picture of your kids as Pennsylvania Dutch, especially when they all have the crazy eyes.

A cow must have been farting over there to the right or something.

No comments:

Post a Comment