Playing the broken record

On Sunday we went to Sea World for a little family fun time. If you like it when circumstances tempt all of your shortcomings as a parent and a husband, then you would have had a great time. Adam’s nose started to run. Then Adam’s temper started to run. Then Beth’s mouth started to run. Then my patience started to run. Then everyone should have run.

I can’t put my finger on the precise moment when Orlando became Bataan, but if the day had lasted much longer then Adam might have been up for a field promotion.

Fortune smiled on me though, after staying up all night Sunday night/Monday morning with a sick kid, I was too dim-witted to be short with anyone yesterday (Monday proper). I’ve said it before, there’s a threshold I pass through where fatigue transitions from irritant to mild hypnotic. I could get four or five hours of sleep, add that to a trying day at an Orlando theme park, and be really cranky; or, I could anesthetize myself with no sleep and try again with the whole sleep thing when conditions are more favorable. Yeah man, Monday was a wild trip. I’d tell you if it went better than Sunday in Orlando, but I don’t remember much of Monday.

Today? Still pretty much useless. We’ll see about sleep tonight.

Oh, all right, I confess that Sunday wasn’t all that bad. Everyone was in pretty good spirits until around 3 p.m. We had an awesome drive over – snacks provided by my favorite caffeine vendor. We had a superlative lunch at the Shark Encounter Bistro (or whatever it’s really called). And I had a great time filming the highlights on my relatively new digital camcorder. Truth be told, I’d probably do it over again.

Maybe someone should check my temperature?