Miles traveled: Jen drove
Hours on Road: Mostly in and out of the car
States covered: 1 – South Carolina
Jen made us breakfast tacos and we had a relaxing morning. Trey was relentless about going to the pool, so we finally went. Jen had told us about the great slide they have there; it’s really long, like one you’d find at a water park, and you go down it on a raft. She had given us the option of driving or walking to the pool and, because she had said the walk was doable, I decided we should walk. Partway there, Trey, who had become very comfortable with Jen very quickly, started making wiseass comments about the “doable” walk. It was a very hot day and he was rapidly losing interest in walking, so he was giving her a hard time in the way only Trey (or Grampa Huey) could do.
Sadly, when we got there, the slide was closed. The boys had fun playing around in the water, anyway. It was so hot and humid, when I took my camera out the lens fogged up. I cleaned it off, but the photos I took that morning were all a bit hazy. It was hilarious to watch Jen and the boys create swimming challenges for each other and then compete to see who could do them the best.
After the pool, Jen drove us around to sight see; we were all too hot to do much more walking. We nearly melted on the walk home from the pool. The first place was visited was Isle of Palms. I’d been there as a kid a couple of times. Chris and John lived in South Carolina for a while, and when I was young, we generally vacationed wherever it was they lived. The evening I remember most vividly was when I was about 11, which would make Trisha 13, John 4, and Matt 2. Trisha and I were left to babysit the youngins while the older folks went out for dinner. Immediately after the door shut behind Chrissy, Matt started wailing this cry that I was certain they heard in the parking lot – but chose to ignore. The kid was relentless. After a full hour of what should have tired out any normal child, he was still going strong. That’s when I discovered that if I sang one particular song he’d stop his shrieking. It wasn’t even crying; it was more excruciating than that. So, for the next three hours, Trisha and I took turns singing, “Oh, there was a little chickie and he wouldn’t lay an egg, so they rubbed hot water up and down his leg. And the little chickie hollered and the little chickie begged, and the little chickie laid a hardboiled egg. Bum, bum, de, dum, dum. Dum, dum.” The poor chickie, he couldn’t lay an egg cause he was a boy!! But this kept Matt quiet. Even with all that crying, he still turned out to be one of my favorite people!!
After reliving that nightmare, I told the boys I’d get them something to eat. Jen suggested hot dogs at Jack’s Cosmic Hot Dog. What a great suggestion. It was an eclectic place that, if it were anything other than quaint, it might be considered dirty. The chandelier over our heads was made of tea cups with teaspoons hanging off them, there was an old-fashioned child’s pay-a-quarter-for-a-ride red car out front, an antique soda machine, and several torpedoes around the property. I loved the place! The food was great, too, though the Littles got only plain hotdogs.
We then went to see the battery in Charleston. Jen knew so much about the area it was like having our own personal tour guide. I got a photo of the kids at the cannons, and I told them to frown just like I had in a photo that was taken of me and John in that same spot (probably right after the crying incident, so that would explain the frown on my face). He and I were wearing matching shirts and for some reason I looked completely pissed off.
We toured the campus of Jen’s alma mater and saw a couple of the places where she’d lived. What a great place to go to school, right in the heart of Charleston, SC. After that we parked and walked though the open air shops, which are wonderful now but were once the site of slave selling back when that shameful institution existed in America. I bought a beautiful grass basket that had been weaved by the older gentleman selling it. The people who make these baskets collect the grass themselves and must pass along the tradition generationally. I could afford only a small one because they’re very expensive, rightfully so. It’s like with the pottery out west; those who are talented make exceptionally artful pieces. The boys have all run out of money, but to keep them interested in shopping I gave them each $20 to spend. That’s the only souvenir money I’ve given them on this trip. Parker and Cal both bought wooden cutouts that the maker had painted. He fashioned them after college basketball teams, so Parker bought the Army one and Cal got a Cincinnati one, only because it was a big C. Trey bought himself a fedora, which he’s wanted since second grade when his class performed the “Singing in the Rain” portion of the second-grade play. He looks rather dapper in it. Since the hat cost only $10, he also bought a photograph of trees and flowers framing a tiny cabin. He felt that the trees looked like the whomping willows from Harry Potter. As we were leaving, Parker spied a drawing of Biggie Smalls that he really wanted. He said he didn’t even like Rap, but Biggie Smalls was totally cool. I told him if it was less than $10 I’d get it for him. It was just a print of the original drawing, so it was only $10. Shoot, I’d thought for sure it would be more. So we’re now the proud owners of a Biggie Smalls print.
Jen, like Tim, thought it was important that we had a bumper sticker from her area, so that’s what we got next. It doesn’t say South Carolina, but it’s the palmetto tree, so anyone who knows their states will know what state it belongs to.
Jen also felt it was very important that we experience the Piggly Wiggly grocery store, and she insisted on buying the boys T-shirts from said store. They love their new shirts. We also picked up a movie at the store: “The Bounty Hunter.”
We got Chick Fil-A again, only this time, we ate it at home, by candlelight, with Biggie Smalls. We all had wine glasses, except Biggie, and placemats, and we dined by candlelight, with Biggie in the center of the table. It was exquisite.
While we watched Bounty Hunter, Cal had an allergic reaction; we don’t know to what. He had a cat on his lap, a new T-shirt on, and he hadn’t put his new “C” down since we finished dinner. It could have been any number of things. Jen gave him some Benadryl, but it didn’t really help. I had him sleep with me that night so I could keep an eye on him. By morning he looked fine (eyes back to normal), but his nose was still stuffed.
For corresponding photos, go to:
http://www5.snapfish.com/snapfish/thumbnailshare/AlbumID=2026888027/a=2740108027_2740108027/otsc=SHR/otsi=SALBlink/COBRAND_NAME=snapfish/
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