Wednesday - Saturday:

We get our asses in a small little propeller plane and fly from Portland to Reno, NV. My husband's college buddy picked us up and drove our happy little family to their lake house at Tahoe. On the way there, I asked if we could stop off at a pharmacy and pick up a few things I'd forgotten for my son. While strapping my son back into the car seat in the parking lot of said establishment (and with half of my body hanging out of the car to do so), Mark's friend turns on the car and takes off fast, leaving me to scramble and get my shit back in the car. He felt bad. I laughed.

The lake house was awesome. Neat cabin, not far from the lake. We spent a lot of time on the little beach and pier, building sand castles, putting more SPF 5000 on my little pasty white kid's body, looking for crawfish in the traps, and relaxing (somewhat) in the sun. When my son realized there was a boat, he wanted ON the thing. And much to my chagrin, the boat needed fixed that afternoon, so at most my son could get ON the boat, just not go anywhere. There was a giant meltdown when we had to take him off the boat.

But back to the cabin. There are stairs inside. They are narrow and they are steep. They are covered in white shaggy fucking carpet. I was coming down the stairs, FIRST GLASS of red wine in hand, and I missed the last ... what, HDHusband ... five steps?? And in an effort not to dump my wine and not to curse (as CollegeFriend's 10-year-old daughter was standing there, mouth open), I managed to make my graceful fall worthy of a maneuver only done by Mary Lou Retton. Swear. I contorted my body into such a position ... I even impressed myself. AND, I didn't spill major amount of wine ... just a tiny bit. And I learned that if you spill red wine, you should immediately get white wine and dabble it on the spot. It comes right out. Take that to the bank, kids.

I wrecked my body that night. Between getting drug outside of the car and then the steps incident, I had bruises along my right side, twisted ankle, and pulled fucking muscles. Classy.

Our room was small, so HDToddler had to sleep in the pack and play at the end of the bed. This went over about as well as a turd in a punch bowl. Wednesday and Thursday night were awful. He had a cold. He was coughing. He was hacking. He was up every 45 minutes, standing up at the edge of his crib, yelling, "MOMMY! DADDY! MOMMY! DADDY!" until I finally pulled him into bed with us. He then kicked us equally in the kidneys and once rollled over on top of my head and continued to snore there.

One morning, I was laying in bed with my top off, just out of the shower, and my son was on the bed with me. He leaned over and poked one of my boobs. My husband said, "BOING! BOING!" and now, when HDToddler sees me naked and sees them, he announces they are, "Boing Boing's". What can you do.

CollegeFriend's little six-year-old boy cracked me up on more than occasion. My favorite being when I saw the preview for the WTC movie. I said, "Man, I'm just not sure I can see that movie yet", to which M. replied, "WHAT? You aren't even 13 yet???" (as it's a PG-13 movie)

There was a laundry room, which was really awesome considering we had trashed all of our items of clothing by this time. But damn if that laundry room did not STINK. CollegeFriend's wife on the last day unearthed an old crawfish trap with a rotten can of cat food in it. Yup. That was the smell. And it was absolutely nasty. Worse than the Panda Express Fart Food - by far.

While there, we got news from a neighbor about the liquid bans on planes. Fucking terrorists. I mean, really!! I want to kick them all in the shins. OR WORSE! So, we flew back to Portland on Saturday - getting to the airport extra early to avoid long line that didn't exist at Reno, by the way. On this flight, my son lost it again during the no-nap period. He was asking for 'night-night', but didn't understand he could just fall asleep.

Let's just say ... my husband ended up taking over HDToddler detail, bought me a glass of red wine. What a nice guy.

Stay tuned for Part Three of our excursion. I continue to be injured. A lot.