Vacation Part 4: the final chapter

As we make our way from the prison that was our ship, to the car, Admiral decides he is going to drive, as up until now I have done all of the driving.  I think that he was tired of being the errand boy for three ungrateful toddlers, and a surly tween, and wanted to reclaim some dignity.  So as we make our way onto the freeway, he declares, "I am going to take a different way back, my GPS says that this way is shorter than the way we came."  Do I care?  No.  Will it get me back to where we came from?  Great!  We head off. 

Almost 5 miles in, we see one of the overhead signs light up, "Traffic stopped for 6 miles, 5 miles ahead."  Ugh!  I look at the clock, because my kiddos are really used to a schedule, it was already 5, and we are used to eating about 6.  I start throwing marshmallow treats at them, and playing Frozen for the 8,000th time this trip.  We really did bring all of our kid movies, but for some reason I think this was the only one that was played. 

We sit in traffic.

And we sit in traffic.

And we still sit in traffic. 

I could see from the look on the Admiral's face, that he was having a battle in his mind of which was the worse torture, having to take care of the kids, and their constant pleas of "I'm Hungry!"  "The movie is too loud", "The movie is too quiet", "I am still hungry", "I feel carsick"; or having to navigate the traffic that was crawling at a snail's pace.  In addition to messes, he also is not great at dealing with drivers who 'won't go', 'just won't go', or 'won't get out of the way and get over if they aren't going to go' 

We finally make it out of the rat race, over the bridge and through the tunnel, and are headed back towards Williamsburg.  I see the vein in his neck is pulsing less now, but the hungries are creaping up on us all.  It is almost 6, and besides the McDonald's and crappy van snacks, we really hadn't eaten anything.  I browse through the travel book, and spy a really nice restaruant, so we decide that this will be a great place to go for our last night here. 

We get right in, and are sat at a booth. 

Now, can I just say this......Restauraunts.  Why oh why do you sit families that need booster seats at a booth?  The seat is so squashy that the booster rocks all over the place.  You can't push it up to the table, because the kids fall out of the seat and onto the floor banging his or her chin on the table, and you can't push it back against the back of the seat, because then he or she is so far away from the table that they drop EVERYTHING on to their lap.  We also can not NOT use a booster, because my kids NEED containment of some kind.  (Please see the last installment of the vacation series to see how my kids do on a bench seat when left to their own devices. )  But, alas, we are at a booth, with boosters, and Little man has already slipped out of his seat, climbed out of his seat, and tipped over his seat about 8 times, and we haven't even gotten water yet.

God bless him, our victim, I mean server, comes over.   He is a very very nice gay man, with a very big smile, and very warm greeting, but I can tell he is already looking at me with a mixture of "Giiirl, I don't know how you do it", and "Oh God you poor thing."  He endears himself to my heart when his response to my "I will just have sweet tea" is "Honey are you sure you don't want something with alcohol?" 

We order, and Your Royal Highness, who has held it together thus far like a champ, starts to come off of his ADHD medicine, and is getting fidgety and a little dramatic.  He is tapping his foot, and shaking the table. He keeps saying, "What are we doing when we get back?  Can we go swimming?  Please, can we swim?"  Ummm, were you on that boat ride son?  I am not doing crap when we get back.  Sorry for ya.  I will be lucky if I make it up the 3 flights of stairs to our room before fainting.  I say, "Not tonight honey.  I am sorry."  He sighs, and goes to slam his head onto the back of the squishy booth, but he has had a growth spurt, and his head is now higher than the soft part, and proceeds to whack his head with great force on the wood beam above it. He starts crying, which in public is really rare for him, so I know it had to really hurt.  I cradle his head and check for a concussion.  But he is fine.  And now he is extremely cranky and whiny. 

Meanwhile, the girls who are beside the Admiral are whining about the food taking too long, and how 'Huuuuuuuuungry' they are.  Mini me was almost to tears about how long the food was taking, and how starved she was.  And I could see that Admiral had just about had enough of family fun time.  The vein in his neck was pulsing again at an alarming rate, and his face was starting to get pink.  They are laying in their booster seats, and falling off onto the bench.  They are taking off their shoes.  They won't color, or use their toys that we brought.    Little Man was also flopping about in his seat like a fish out of water, because he wanted to look at the people behind us, and see the people at the next table, and "Ooooh mommy, look they have food too!  I want a bite."  as he tries to climb over me to eat this poor man's pasta beside us.  And now YRH is hitting me with a barrage of, "Why cant we swim?  It isn't fair!  Why not?  Can daddy take me?  I want to swim, we have hardly swam the whole time!  You said we would swim, will you please take me, PLEASE!  Moooooooommmy!!  Please!"

Finally the food arrives, and God bless him, our server got the kid's food out first.  We now commence the cutting furiously of meat, and blowing of fries in a flurry of activity as all 3 toddlers want their food NOW, and all try to put a still sizzling fry into their mouths, as we snatch it from their hands.  Then tears are shed as we say, "Just let me finish cutting this, it is hot!"  And then our food arrives, and is crammed onto the table, only to be left to get cold as we finish dissecting everyone's chicken, or grilled cheese, or hamburger.  Then there is the requisite, "I need ketchup!  I need ranch!"  to which we have to grab our server and beg for condiments.  Finally all have their entrees.  I go to bite into this delicious looking $15 hamburger on a gluten free bun, when Mini Me starts in:

"I don't want this.  I'm not hungry."  The grilled cheese she ordered is probably the most delicious

looking sandwich I have ever seen.  The cheese is like 1/2 an inch thick, and the bread is golden toasty brown.  She has lost her damn mind.  Admiral goes purple, "YOU were yelling and complaining about how hungry you were.  You WILL eat this now, because you will not get anything else tonight at all."  I could see him glaring at her murderously because the stress from the day was causing him to snap.  She starts to cry, and moan the whine that, I swear, is the most annoying, god-awful noise any human has ever made, ever in the history of human kind.  The kind of noise that would cause you to literally take the steak knife in front of you, and plunge it into your ears just to make it stop.  The kind of noise that could potentially cause one to have temporary insanity and end up in jail.  I can see this all playing out in my head and I throw my hand across the table, and grab his, and say, "Hon, why don't you go for a little walk to the bathroom huh?  I think you need to take a break."  I am not sure how he did it, but with super human strength he propels himself out of the bench between the twins, flies over Mini me and lands with the precision of an olympic gymnast onto the floor.  I half expected him to "stick it".  He then practically runs away. 

After he is gone, I use the scariest mommy voice I own, and growl so that no one can hear but our table.  "Listen to me and listen right now you little heathens, your dad and I have just about had it with all of you.  This is enough of this.  We are ALL tired, we are ALL hungry, and we are ALL ready to just be done.  But this is our LAST meal and we are going to enjoy it as a family with NO whining and we are going to stop complaining and eat the food that is in front of you.  IS THAT CLEAR?  Because so help you God if you don't!!  But if you do, I will buy you dessert to take back to the condo.  Anything you want.  Just STOP BEING BRATS!  GOT IT????" 

I swear the only thing they heard was , "Blah blah blah blah blah blah dessert. Blah blah blah."  Whatever it was, they started to at least sit somewhat still, and somewhat eat their dinner.  Albeit little man had kicked off his shoes, and Thumbellina was eating her crayon instead of dinner, but you know what, they were quiet. 

Admiral came back, and climbed over Mini me and ate the rest of his pasta in complete furious silence.  The bill came, and we ordered cookies to go, and good to his word, Admiral boxed up Mini me's grilled cheese because  "Hell no she isn't getting a cookie until she eats this."  He then took the kids to the car while I waited for my credit card. 

My favorite little server came back and said with a wry smile, "You know, I knew if I took my time with this card, he would take the kids out to the car and I figured you would get a little time to yourself in silence before you had to go back out there. I commend you sweetie, you are a rock star mom." 

I gave him a big tip.

We slowly make our way back to the condo. 

The next morning we get up, pack up the car and head back home.  The admiral and I were able to laugh about the day before, saying "What the hell were we thinking taking those kids on a 2 hour cruise??  We have lost our minds!"  and "I think we need more time here, we will have to come back.  But when we get to come back the little's won't be free for

everything anymore." 

As we drove off into the sunrise, we smile at each other.

We had survived.