Do I talk too much about Real Gil?
It's hard not to when you're married to your best friend. And I'm going to do so again. Right now.
Real Gil had a day off, and it takes about twenty minutes before the man is bored. There wasn't a car that needed an oil change, and there wasn't even a child that needed a diaper change.
So, Real Gil decided it was time for an outing. We put the school books away (er... this might be stretching the truth a bit...we dragged the kids out of the warm spring sunshine and cleaned them up. I might have put a few school books back on the shelf AS IF we had done some school.) and loaded the car.
Small towns are great for growing families, but a cold wind was blowing which eliminated lots of activities. We made the hour-long trek to our nearest "big city" and tried our hand at something new.
The children bowled exactly five rounds before promptly ditching their parents. Little Man just wanted to jump from ugly-firework-design-on-disgustingly-dirty-bowling-alley-carpet to ugly-firework-design-on-disgustingly-dirty-bowling-alley-carpet. The girls found an old arcade game, one of those hunting games with the plastic, germ-riddled rifles strung up to the sides of the machine. Who knew a hunting for cartoon caribou could be so exciting with the words "Insert Coin" flashing across the screen? I followed them with an eagle eye because 1) I'm full of absurd generalizations about folks who bowl; 2) I was relieved to have an excuse to leave bowling for another day; and 3) I wanted to watch Real Gil from a distance bowl five more rounds for five family members...by himself. It was hilarious! He was throwing bowling balls as fast as the machinery could process them. And I must say, I've never had my name on the bowling score card with a triple digit next to it. Thank you very much, Gil.
Afterward, we went out for dinner together. We thought this was a brilliant idea, until we saw that everyone else in the city thought it was a brilliant idea. So, while we waited, we took goofy pictures, toured the bathroom (four times), and played with the revolving door at the entrance.
For other ideas of what to do with little ones at a restaurant, check this link. To be honest, we don't have enough restaurant outings to need to occupy our little ones, they're pretty excited to just be eating in a booth, with lots of people to stare at, point to, or make embarrassing comments about. (I know I ended that sentence with a preposition, English high school teacher extraordinaire, Dr. Bateman. I know. It's just that naptime is only so long, and I don't care to re-work the darn thing. Take it or leave it, sister.)
What has your family been doing for family outings or playdates? And what do you do with little ones to keep them occupied during dinners out? And how hard do they crash afterward?
Resting in Him,