Frankly, I'm amazed I can still walk. From 10 a.m. Sunday morning until 1:30 Tuesday afternoon, I did nothing but. We toured the Capitol Building, the Library of Congress, and the Supreme Court. We paid our respects at the Lincoln Memorial and the Vietnam War Memorial. We went to Air and Space, Natural History, American History and the American Indian. It was great, and I am pooped.
Here's the difference between me and the Man when it comes to museum-hopping: I want to see stuff about people, he wants to see stuff about space ships and fossils. The Air and Space Museum worked out fine. The boys gawked at missiles and rockets while I had a delightful time reading wall plaques about Orville and Wilbur Wright's family life.
The only downside of the trip was my hair. I had it cut and colored on Friday. The color is very nice. So is the cut, except that my stylist and I are currently having a difference of opinion. I want to grow my hair a little bit longer. She wants me to look like Kate from Jon and Kate Plus 8. So she says she's just going to trim, and then she goes to town. Once she takes off a chunk, there's nothing I can do. I sit there in the chair, helpless and hoping that the mirror is lying and she's not actually making the hair on my crown stand up like a rooster's comb (she did).
So I went to D.C. and my hair was too short and my bangs were too spikey. I tried to not let it spoil the trip. Jack and Will were amazingly well-behaved (not that they're usually horrible, but you know how it is with kids and vacations--serious breakdowns can and often do happen, and Jack has a bad habit of getting upset at restaurants if a waitress dares to bring him a kids' menu). They didn't get bored and they didn't complain and they didn't start kicking each other for no reason.
Now we're home, and my hair is still too short. Cute, but not what I wanted. I will try to lay that aside and enjoy the many spoils of our vacation--the postcards and books and interesting pamphlets. The fact that my children did not self-destruct and no waitresses were harmed during our stay in the capitol city. Because that's much more important than my hair, right? I'm pretty sure it is.
Wild Bill and the Champagne Chairs
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