LLV Day Four: The Whole Point of It

My original plan for early Saturday morning was to steal Terence's bike and get in a 20 mile ride before the kids were up. I figured it would be challenging, since there are hills every which way in Park City, but I was very excited to get out and enjoy the mountain air. Best of all, it would be an hour and half without the children! However, Terence hadn't packed an extra tube for the tire so when I so unthinkingly flattened the first one on Thursday, it put the bike out of commission. (Terence had tried to get a new one in a shop in Kanab, but even though the sign said it was open on Friday mornings, apparently they didn't feel like it that day.) Poor Terence. The only thing he had wanted to do in Park City, and I had ruined it for him.

Anyway, my plans morphed into a hunt to find cheap towels to buy. We had slept the night before on blankets-- even though there were no sheets there were plenty of extra blankets and down comforters. But it is hard to shower, wash your face, dry dishes, any of that stuff without towels. For me, cheap linen=Walmart. Amy had tried to take care of that at midnight, but I guess in Park City people have no need to shop the cheap superstore in the middle of the night. (Whatever is wrong with you people?) I planned to arrive right when the doors opened at 7 am so hopefully I could have the towels back home before anyone was up and needing to shower. My mom gave me simple directions and told me I wouldn't be able to miss it. And quite honestly, I assumed she was right, since Walmarts are not usually tucked back away in hidden little corners of town.

Forty-five minutes later I finally gave in and called my mother. I was baffled. Wherever I ended up, there was no sign of a Walmart. In fact there was almost no sign of shopping in any direction. I stumbled upon a Home Depot and thought for sure the mammoth building behind it must be a cunningly disguised Walmart, but no, it was the county justice complex. After calling my mother I was still confused, but she at least got me on the right freeway headed the right direction.

Eureka! I finally found it. I raced through the store and managed to get a small selection of flimsy towels that would hopefully hold us over until we could get a hold of the owner of the house. My shopping trip took longer than expected so by the time I made it back to the house, some of the group had already left to set up the morning reunion activities. (Sorry, guys! I tried!)

The reunion plans for the day included games and lunch at a nearby park, and a Dutch oven cook off and more activities in the evening (at a different park.) Earlier in the week, my dad had checked the weather forecast and assured us that it would be relatively cool but sunny while we were there, perfect outdoor play weather. But why would we assume that would actually be the case, since everything else had gone awry so far?

Our picnic/games included passing thunderstorms.

We weren't the only people who were unprepared for this weather. A neighboring party had set up a giant slip n slide on the hill using sprinklers and dish soap and inner tubes. It looked like normally it would be a lot of fun, but not in the wind and rain. At least not to me. The kids didn't care, and the party invited our reunion group to use the slide if we liked.

J got up there before Terence or I could stop him. I should tell you that J HATES to be wet. He is OK with it only in the bathtub or the pool, but in any other circumstances it will ruin his day. He will moan and cry and even throw a tantrum if his clothes get wet. I was already wondering how he was going to handle the rain (and it wasn't even a downpour.) But he got up there determined to go down the slide on an inflatable lounge.

Bad, bad idea. He got stuck halfway down, right under the sprinkler sprays. Then he rolled off the lounge right into a large puddle of water. Predictably, he ended up inconsolable. In the end, I had to have Terence take me and the boys back to the house. J was wearing his only pair of pants, and I knew he would need them later, so I decided to throw in a load of wash and miss any afternoon fun so J would be functional by the evening.

When we walked in the front door, I tripped right over three giant plastic bags of linen and supplies. Apparently the owner had gotten a hold of the management company, who had simply dropped the stuff off. (What great service.) SO while the laundry load was in, I became the maid service for the day. I carried all the linens down the million flights of stairs and started making the beds, hanging up the towels, and putting out all the little soaps and bottles of shampoo. The bright spot in all this was that I spent so much time going up and down the stairs, I got in a full workout for the day, even without the bike ride. (It was so much that my legs hurt for the next two days, just as if I'd done about 200 squats.)

At this time you may be wondering if I would ever do this again, or if the trip was worth it at all. I had my moments of wondering that too. But Saturday night at the Dutch oven cook off, I actually got to eat some marvelous Dutch oven food, talk to some of my cousins, see their adorable kids, and catch up with my grandparents, so all was not a total loss. Besides, B won a giant box of Whoppers in the bingo game, and what could be better than that?

(To Be Continued, and Finally Concluded—Whew!)