Thursday, July 23, 2009

South of the Border (the RIGHT way!) - Pt. 1

This is how you do South-of-the-Border the sad way.

Doing South-of-the-Border the RIGHT way involves a big dent in the bank account, but was ohhhhh so worth it. Let's get y'all back up to speed.

Freeing myself from the shackles of high school was nice and ended on a pretty cool note. I've housed a TV in my room for the whole year and it's only collected dust since math videos are either


a) lame

b) retarded

or

c) 25 years old.


Well, one of my favorite students and his circle of hooligans brought in Guitar Hero and hooked it up to that there TV. I don't know that anyone else has had such a fantastic last day. I demurred when they asked me to play. I mean really - they had every song on uber-expert-devil-hard. How would I have looked slogging through "Eye of the Tiger" on medium difficulty?


I packed up my crap and labelled all my desks in an effort to stop other teachers from swiping mine during the summer. Although I plan to do exactly that when the opportunity presents itself. No one wants to sit in my one desk abomination with the seat that tilts forward at a 45 degree angle.

Annndddd after packing up the classroom, I packed up 20 bottles of bug spray, a few bathing suits and some sunblock so we could head on down to the REAL south of the border.


Flying to Cancun was uneventful, and from there we hired a van to drive us to the town of Chetumal, just north of the Belizean border. I discovered that when poking around a town that speaks Spanish, I'm suddenly a master of Swahili. Even GirlChild knew more Spanish from Dora the Explorer - her favorite thing to say being "Ayudenme!".


We spent the night in Chetumal and visited their very excellent Museo de la Cultura Maya. Being the culturally sensitive Americans that we are, we took pictures of the kids picking the nose of a giant monolithic face. And had to read OVER and OVER again how Mayan men would pierce their wieners with stingray spines. (Wieners being our word, not theirs.)


We were picked up the next day and driven to our beautiful stay in inland Belize via these guys, who we'll highly recommend if you need to be carted around the area and I can't say enough good things about our stay at the Jungle Dome.

Here's a view from our porch. *sigh* I miss it already.


I'll end on this note. Hoping to fit in the GirlChild-Monkey-Attack and Spider-The-Size-Of-My-Fist story...next time!

Sunday, July 19, 2009

Incense and Peppermint and Codeine

School ended in late June, we spent 11 glorious days in Belize and Mexico and came home so that BoyChild could fracture his foot on my watch.

My friend Gretta was distracting me with some intense homework grading scenarios while BoyChild was busy missing bars on the jungle gym. He screamed, I pulled some major muscle groups trying to heft his 85 lbs. into the car and we carted him to the ER. I'll try my best to replay that evening for you.
___________________

*arrive at the ER door and beg for wheelchair because I can't carry him any more*

GirlChild: *wail* "I wanna ride in a wheelchaiiirrrrr..." *high pitched keening*

Alice: "There are no other wheelchairs except the one for the incredibly obese."

GirlChild runs over to it but wheels in circles since she can only reach one wheel. Mean nurse tells her to stop and I think... "Do you want her wheeling in circles or screaming about wanting to be in a wheelchair?"

Babycakes arrives to pick up GirlChild right after GirlChild points out the patient with the hairy back.

I accompany BoyChild for x-rays. The techs play the game Can-Frick-Get-Behind-The-Barrier-Before-Frack-Hits-The-Button?. I predict cancer within five years for one or both.

We wait in the room, killing time by blowing up the medical gloves and playing Milk-The-Cow. Things get interesting once they give BoyChild Tylenol with Codeine for the pain.

*weep* *cry* *snicker* *laugh* *uncontrollable laughter*

BoyChild: "Penis"..."Penis wenis"...(laughs for 30 seconds)..."Penis wenis"... (laughs and almost fall off the bed)

Alice: "Every time you say that, you get one less pack of Pokemon cards."

BoyChild contemplates this for 15 seconds, stares me in the eye and yells out "Bob Evans!"

More hysterical laughter for 30 seconds followed by "Bob Evans!" This happened roughly 50 more times, each time funnier than the last.

*fart* (more laughter)

BoyChild: "Wait...it's coming." (three more farts and extended snickering)

BoyChild: "EXCUSE ME FOR ALL THE FARTS I HAVE EVER MADE!"

Nurse comes in to sit by him and asks him about the accident.

BoyChild: "I think it's here!"

Alice: "MOVE...he's gonna fart again!"

Nurse: "I'm outta here."

Discharged at 11:45 pm.