September 11, 2001
On September 11, we played Putt-Putt Golf. I didn't take any photos so most of these are of my mother and I (my brother shot them). We all did poorly that day, although I sucked the least and won the game (first time ever), beating my mother, toppling the Queen of Putt-Putt by a stroke. She's a pretty decent gopher.
I know my younger sister, Brenda, feels left out on these trips, being stuck at home with her new baby, Aaron, screaming and crapping all over her, so I tried to include her in the photos, even if she wasn't really there. See if you can find her. And just to be sure I felt her pain, I had Wendi throw up on me (she jumped up and down and screamed,"Me! Me! Me!" when I asked for a volunteer), and I wore the same pants for three days without using a restroom. We couldn't find a bonnet in my size. Here's day one:
We made the mistake of visiting the petting zoo first. I got real cozy with a goat and he ate half my map (for real--no joke). After that, when Darrel would ask me to look up something on my map I'd usually have to reply,"Uhhh...don't know where that is, the goat ate that part". I sifted through some poo to find the restrooms. Then we did all these things:
Or perhaps this was our RMS Titanic impression. They say she wouldn't have sunk if only Wendi was flooded, but once Darrel had a leak, the family was doomed to sink, and there's Brenda, ignoring my folded-arm distress signal. Sad story. Actually, I think this is the only time we did this---no one wanted to be Wendi. I still don't know why no one thought of climbing on board the iceberg. according to early newspaper reports the height and length of the iceberg was approximated at 50 to 100 feet high and 200 to 400 feet long. It didn't sink, and was a lot warmer than swimming in the 28F degree North Atlantic. Next time you get an ant caught in your iced tea, see how quickly it clings to the ice. He knows I'm right
Oh right, back to the story!