Campy Cheesiness

We went to a birthday party last night. At Medieval Times. I have so many snarky comments to make about it that I'm oozing at the seams.

Utter madhouse to get there. Huge crowds, lines. Chaos. They did my oh so favorite thing, lined people up for pictures as you tried to get in. Grrrrr, god damn I hate that. We blew past, got our burger King hats with our color on them, met up with our friends, and I tried to be cheerful. Amongst all the excited rednecks. The glass of wine helped. A lot. We waited for an hour and a half to get into the arena, wandering around and spending an assload on a princess hat for AB. To match her princess dress.

Did I mention that?

She wore her special princess dress. Nary a soul that we passed didn't awwww at her. So. Cute.

They called us. We filed in. Sat down. Waited. They brought us soup as the show began. AB was so good for the whole thing, several hours. She ate lots of chicken, lots of rib meat, a little garlic bread, and half of her apple turnover. She and R had the best time, she was so sweet, really got it, we all cheered and screamed and hoorayed and honestly?

We all had a fucking amazing time.

So. Lame.

But there it is. It was great. A once-in-a-lifetime experience.

We spent the night at our friends' house and AB was so good, she went to bed with no problems whatsoever. Such a good girl. We stayed up and talked to our buds until after 1 a.m. about blow jobs and homeschooling. We finished after breakfast the next day, minus the BJ talk. It was a lot of fun.

Happy Birthday, Eric.

On another topic, AB has started using the word "appropriate." Appropriately, of course. Most of the time, anyway.

"Milk is appropriate to have with dry crackers."
"This dress is appropriate to shake hands."

Great weekend. God dammit, is it time to go back to work already?