Return
of Fun Things
Friday morning started
with a repeat of Wednesday, a quick in room breakfast followed by a jaunt down
to the sea with only beach stuff, and melting proof snacks.
There was a massive
crowd waiting at the elevator, something we didn’t see in the Havana
Tower. We weren’t sure if it was a capacity
(less cars) or a timing (checkout) thing. What we were sure of is listening to
the guy who suggested riding the car up first, instead of waiting for room in
one going down was a brilliant idea.
This was especially true
when we noticed the same crowd of soullessly sad eyed individuals staring at us
in a full car when the doors opened on the floor we started on as it passed on
the way down.
Supplies brought from
home for the beach were Anabelle’s boogie board, and a beach chair.
Both turned out to be
broken, without impacting our fun.
The Styrofoam inside the
board’s cover was clearly cracked. This didn’t prevent floating and allowed
Anabelle many a wave powered slide towards the shore.
Once the way was clear
of lettuce, of course.
The chair had slightly
more interesting problems, as the reclining part would fall backwards due to a
disconnect of a rivet and some overly bendy supports. Rosa and I took turns
VEEEEERY gingerly tanning or reading in it, respectively, when we were out of
the surf.
Mostly, it served to
weigh down the towels in the increasing wind.
Anabelle continued to
play Chopped in the sand, pulling me
in to either give her ingredient lists, or come up with something based on
hers.
While Rosa napped at one
point, she made a dessert containing a chicken brittle, and mine somehow
involved mashing pulled pork into an ice cream machine.
It may have been safer
and healthier to eat the sand than what we pretended it was.
I went back in to get a
phone so we could take some pictures before we left on the possible last ocean
day. Hurricane Hermine was getting
unctuous as she worked her way north, dimming the probabilities of a final dip
before leaving the next day.
It occurred to me when I
was coming back out of the Tropicana that it was about the time I would just be
arriving if I was able to get out of work as early as possible that day.
Clearly this was a
well-used day off.
The storm down south
warmed up the water, without roughening it to Anabelle frightening
proportions. (A soft breeze gets it past
“me frightening” proportions.)
However, there was a
chilled wind coming over the waves that meant the McGinley ladies were back on
the sand when I got back, having completed their frolicking.
I stepped on a venomous
sea monster as I crossed the beach.
OK, perhaps I panicked a
bit.
I stepped on a small
barbed thing that stuck into my foot.
The Oompa Loompa hued life guards informed me was a dune grass
seed. I buried it deep in the sand next
to their tide adjustable seat, and hopped back to our location.
After just enough faux
frolicking for photos, we packed up. Back in the room we rinsed, changed, and
dumped enough sand from the beach chair onto the nice hardwood floor to start a
Zen garden.
Dinner (chosen by them)
was Cuba Libre again!
Anabelle had the steak
she liked before, Rosa had the rice she liked before, and I had the fish I
liked before. There were also tasty
appetizers and desserts!
Reminder: Daddy was right on vacation!!! (Or anywhere!)
Wooo! Momentous occasion here!
After dinner, I took
Anabelle back to the kid’s arcade. No
jackpots this trip, but enough decent hits on the two trips to net her some
slightly higher quality crap.
She and her Mother made
the educated decision to change shoes before the night stroll on the
Boardwalk.
Seeing all the rescue
boats and Oompa Loompa chairs firmly lashed down to the railings like Pintel
and Raghetti in the titular part of Pirates
of the Caribbean: At Worlds End rather than left on the beach had me
wondering more seriously if Hermine was going to cause some shifting of our
final day early morning ocean plan.
Seeing the torn pants
and various form fitting and minimal outfits New Jersey women on a Boardwalk
night out chose to wear had me wondering why the Hooters near the exit of the
Tropicana bothered.
We only walked down to
the mall that time, stopping again at IT’SUGAR for a Swedish fish refill for me
before going home the next day.
However, I’d been told
(by the relatives with me that evening) that the Caesar’s gelato was deserving
of its Imperial location.
One might think I’d be
surprised when Anabelle ordered a fruit tart, but I’ve been a parent long
enough to expect this sort of behavior.
We took in the sights of
the impressive lobby, while I tried to impart some Roman history to my daughter
via a connection to the version of Shakespeare’s Julius Caesar she read in Language Arts. Most of it involved, “Wait, if that’s not
Julius Caesar, why isn’t the casino called Octavian’s Palace?
With a smidge of
educational progress made, we went back to the Tropicana. For the first time we
caught the “multimedia show” outside. It
consisted of some cool electronic music, flashing strobe lights and video
screens with digital Tron like
images. Not a replacement for the long
missing laminar flow fountain show in the mall, but nifty none the less.
On the way up to the
room, I stopped again in the little wine store, since spilling much of my
“weird vacation beer” allowed me a replacement.
It’s in the manual,
trust me.
I had my Ghost Rider
shirt on, and the guy behind the counter was a huge fan. We had a pretty
awesome conversation while he pulled out the herb rye ale from the “weird
vacation beer” fridge. Anabelle had some
awesome eye rolling while we were there as well.
We took the “secret
hallway” she’d discovered on this trip back to the West Tower. It passed by the “Boogie Nights” Seventies
nightclub. The time was early enough
that the crowd was small and disinterested.
The stage dancer with the hula hoop seemed to sense Anabelle was also a dancer when their eyes met. Either that
or she was just thrilled to have someone not completely ignoring her and they
shared a moment.
Because of our earlier viewing
of Wayne’s World, Anabelle was able
to identify the boor in the elevator as not only being drunk and inappropriate
when he quoted the lame Chinese food “joke” from that film, but also
unoriginal.
We played some Uno
amidst packing on our last night.
Being far too tired to
go down and gamble yet again still did not let me sleep with the impending
Hermine-ness. Instead I woke up
continually to check the weather both at home (due to the door water saturation
earlier in the ad-veeeeen-tures! *Jazz Hands*) and where we were. (Due to being
there.)
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