Snyrting in Iceland: Part 1

Alice, Babycakes, BoyChild and GirlChild have returned from the far north to report on "How We Spent Our Summer Vacation." Now, you can Google all the pictures of Iceland you want and see what we saw, but I'm here to share the stuff you don't see in National Geo.

Iceland suits those who are "rolling in dough" or folks like us who have saved every last cent by foregoing things like food and car payments. To spread the cash over twelve days, a lot of our dinners consisted of ham and cheese sandwiches and delicious little pastries called Kleifur. (The name of this pastry could be completely wrong since Alice's grasp of the Icelandic language was limited to Haagen Dasz and fake IKEA product names.) Needless to say, we all had some signifcant changes in our bowel movements which we didn't hesitate to discuss.

BoyChild: My poops are smaller.
Alice: I can't poop at all.
BabyCakes: I think my diarrhea has stopped.

And then we'd look for the nearest SNYRTING sign. Which made me laugh. Every time.


Every toilet had two mystical buttons to choose from. No two toilets were the same and I couldn't figure out if one button was for pee and one was for poo because when I flushed each they seemed the same and I was confused and I spent WAY too much time pondering this. GirlChild tried to set me straight about the buttons but I'm pretty sure she just made something up to get me away from the snyrting. Or is 'snyrting' a verb? Now I'm confused again. Haagen Dasz.

We rented a car and headed north from Reykjavik only to spot the ever elusive Giant Coca-Cola grazing in a field. I braked hard and swerved to avoid a collision with...nothing...there was nothing on the road. Not even a sheep. Maybe some rocks. There were lots of those in Iceland.
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We didn't stop until we reached this little gem hidden in a town called Husavik. WOW. I think the phrase that comes to mind is "sandpaper my corneas." And if my kids don't know how baby whales get made by now, then they weren't looking at the big pointy thing sticking out from the wall and knocking my camera bag off my shoulder.
GirlChild took a few too many photos in there which I had to delete off her camera before Grandma learned that mice had penis bones. And before Grandma learned that GirlChild learned that mice had penis bones.
I'll leave you with BoyChild and Babycakes looking proud and manly next to some weiner rocks.