*Subtitle: I know, my life is so much more fabulous than Lilith's!

I woke on Thursday around 8 to find The Kid watching Cartoon Network and Girlfriend watching Return of The King on the portable DVD player. The very instant I woke, they both started talking at once. The Kid was desperate for more of the waterpark and Girlfriend would've killed for a latte. As you might imagine, Girlfriend won that particular contest. Because she actually threatened to kill me if I made her wait any longer. Yeah… The Kid just can't trump that.

But after the lattes, we were back down at the waterpark. There were considerably fewer soccermoms running around at nine in the morning. Sucks to be me. But because the place was less a zoo than the previous afternoon, I felt comfortable enough leaving The Kid unattended on dry ground long enough to give one of the waterslides a try.

The one I chose was a pipe that emptied into a gigantic bowl, spun the rider around a few times, then dumped into "the lagoon." The slide wasn't really an unpleasant experience, but the pressure going down the first pipe was immense. I felt like my head was going to fly off. And then that swirling around in the bowl part? I can now say I know exactly what it would feel like to be flushed down the toilet. Apparently, people ride these things for fun. The slide was menacingly named "Timber Rattler" or something silly like that. I think a more fitting, and more fun, name would be "Chocolate Swirlie." Maybe "Flush-o-Matic?" I'll get back to you on that. And by "get back to you on that," I really mean "immediately forget about it."

After the waterpark, The Kid asked the question I'd been expecting all morning. "Dad, can we go to the arcade?"

"No, Kid, we can't."

"But I want to spend the rest of my money!"

"And you can do that. You can spend the rest of your money anyway you want."

"I want to spend it in the arcade!"

"Do you know how much money you have left?"

"No."

"You have eleven cents. Do you know how many games you can play with eleven cents?"

"How many?!"

"None."

"Dad, that wasn't very nice!"

"What? Besides, maybe you'll want to save the rest of your money for shopping."

"Oh yeah! I want to buy stuff!"

Was I mean? Yes, almost certainly. Did he learn a lesson? I hope, but probably not.

As expected, The Kid went careening through every store in the city with his eleven cents burning a hole in his pocket. Every six feet was a new "Dad, can I buy this?" I patiently and methodically explained that, "No, Kid, that costs twenty-four dollars. You have eleven cents." Every time there was a little pout, and every time I tried to drive home my point about trying to budget his money. He ended up buying a ten cent gum ball and returning home with a single penny in his wallet.

We spent the afternoon shopping, but bought very little. We returned home with a few books and not much else.

Back home again, we sat on the couch with drinks to watch the end of Return of The King. I was pleasantly surprised that Girlfriend watched the entire six disc epic in only five days. I thought for certain it was going to take her weeks to get through the whole thing. When it was all finished, she turned to me and said, "Wow, that movie was incredible. That's… wow. Just… wow. That was so good." Pause, pause. "But I am never watching that again."

Afterward (To this chapter only, there are more chapters to come)

You may have noticed that our two day mini-getaway didn't really have a downside. Well, unless you count… all of it. But I had soccermoms to look at and chocolate martinis to drink, so I consider the experience a net gain. Given that my junk had been uninjured for several days now, you might assume I'd survived The Curse of Riddick, but this was not yet the case.

Several days after coming home, I learned that I brought more home with me than I knew. I also picked up some lovely tinea pedis at the waterpark. Athlete's foot. Sweet. Riddick strikes again. That bastard.