day 4

day 4: I in no way recommend going to Sesame Place. The cauldron of stress began with very little sleep over 3 nights, coffee jitters, and a diet of cannolis and brownies. The drive to Sesame Place is about an hour and a half, but with my sister's NYC driving, two of the kids sharing a seatbelt, one with a peanut bladder and a moaning bad attitude, and one who is screaming and headbutting, it feels like about 12 hours. My stress level was very extremely high. I felt myself aging rapidly. I did not want to go to Sesame Place anymore.

When we got off the highway, I ran into a Barnes and Noble with Eleanor, who was dragging me by the hand. I asked an employee for the restroom; she ignored me because she was with another customer. I yelled "Jesus!" and dragged Eleanor by the hand around the store and considered letting her pee in the corner. She has a very small bladder and a very small patience holder. And a very big mouth.

So I felt very crabby upon arriving at Sesame Place.

I paid at least $20 in tolls to get there, $15 to park, $130 to get in (twilight rate) and nine dollars for a refillable pop. Oh budget, where art thou? It was 90 degrees. The park is small, the rides are lame, and the lines are long. It is crazy ass crowded. It's not the kind of place you would cross the country for. It more like a carnival than a muppet themed Disney World. I actually said to the woman next to me in line, "Have you ever been here before?" "When I was 3," she said. With sincere astonishment I replied, "I HATE it here."

When the sun went behind the clouds and it cooled off a little, so did I. Margaret and I were able to sit and watch the girls play in the water park. The people-watching was really good. There were middle class people, ghetto people, foreigners. There were Muslims in burkinis, orthodox Jewish moms with pursed lips, Chinese and Japanese and European tourists. Scary Puerto Rican grandmas, Africans with braids, ladies with wigs, dads with hairy backs, dads with dinner plate nipples. There were little boys with 40 inch waists and New Jersey accents, people with elephant legs and tight anklets, and fleshy women stuffed into revealing bathing suits. It was the whole world represented in the sort of way like those creative writing books full of photos to inspire a short story.

Eleanor and I enjoyed the roller coaster together. Charlotte lost a tooth. ...Looking back at the photos, I can see the kids had fun.

We stuck around for the parade and I must have stood there watching these poor "dancers" with a sneering look of disgust normally reserved for junior high girls. It's quite amateur; I guess expectations rise with the price of admission.

Margaret treated us all to dinner at McDonald's. The ride back was easier except that I had Gracie in the back seat between my legs and was paranoid that we would be pulled over and I would be arrested for negligence.

I got a phone call that my great aunt went in for emergency surgery and therefore our Detroit trip was cancelled. I thought about just going straight home.

This night, I slept well.