Branson
I said this last year, but I'll say it again this year: My boss is awesome. He bought me a cappuccino maker for Christmas! He is always so generous. My co-workers received, among other gifts, a mitre saw, a pack-n-play, a World Atlas and a Cuisinart. The problem is, there is no possible way to return the generosity. The man has everything he could ever want. He wants to buy himself a backhoe, but sorry, I don't happen to have $25,000 lying around.
Jason and I spent the weekend in Branson, MO, with some friends of ours and their 20 month old and newborn sons. And here's what I learned: Everything, whatever action it may be, takes twice as long with a child involved. Add a newborn, and you can triple that. It's a good thing that I'm pregnant and have to stop to pee every hour anyway. I used every lag as an opportunity to either find a restroom or prop my feet up on nearby objects.
Branson is always interesting to me. It astonishes me that it is such a mecca for some people. People actually drive from as far away New York or Montana to go to Branson. I have grown up in the Ozark mountain area, so I've been going to Branson since it was just Silver Dollar City, a lake and the Baldknobbers show, which was good for a weekend family jaunt when you were seven years old. I was away at college
when it turned into the Redneck Las Vegas. I went back for the first time a couple of years ago and couldn't believe my eyes. Gone was the little mountain town with a couple of good barbeque restaurants and a quaint little crafts and entertainment park. It was replaced by flashing "Ripley's Believe It Or Not" billboards, Yakov Smirnov, Andy Williams and many many country buffets attended by retirees. It's so unhip and cheesy, Jason and I actually find it mildly cool.
So it was fun. Cold, crowded, cheesy, but fun. And I still secretly want to be a saloon girl at Silver Dollar City.
Jason and I spent the weekend in Branson, MO, with some friends of ours and their 20 month old and newborn sons. And here's what I learned: Everything, whatever action it may be, takes twice as long with a child involved. Add a newborn, and you can triple that. It's a good thing that I'm pregnant and have to stop to pee every hour anyway. I used every lag as an opportunity to either find a restroom or prop my feet up on nearby objects.
Branson is always interesting to me. It astonishes me that it is such a mecca for some people. People actually drive from as far away New York or Montana to go to Branson. I have grown up in the Ozark mountain area, so I've been going to Branson since it was just Silver Dollar City, a lake and the Baldknobbers show, which was good for a weekend family jaunt when you were seven years old. I was away at college
when it turned into the Redneck Las Vegas. I went back for the first time a couple of years ago and couldn't believe my eyes. Gone was the little mountain town with a couple of good barbeque restaurants and a quaint little crafts and entertainment park. It was replaced by flashing "Ripley's Believe It Or Not" billboards, Yakov Smirnov, Andy Williams and many many country buffets attended by retirees. It's so unhip and cheesy, Jason and I actually find it mildly cool.
So it was fun. Cold, crowded, cheesy, but fun. And I still secretly want to be a saloon girl at Silver Dollar City.
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