Vacation Recap Day 2 (Sunday)
We tried to schedule one activity per day on vacation. Yesterday we drove. On day 2, we went to the Chiefs-Bengals game. The game started at noon, and our hotel was about 10 miles from the stadium. Therefore to arrive in time to find our seats before kickoff, we needed to wake up, oh, about 6am.
It’s not like we’re insane fans who need to do something silly before going to the game like apply body paint, gas up the tailgating bus, or grill with charcoal. We needed to drop the kids off at a babysitter because there’s no conceivable way to take three small children to an NFL game. We’d spend the entire game juggling children, trying to make someone nap in an environment that prides itself on producing a noise level equivalent to a jet engine, and trying to quiet someone else while the offense was on the field.
We spent hour #1 preparing ourselves, showering, eating, and adorning red shirts. We spent hour #2 preparing the kids earlier than they’re used to waking up, but we figured it would be okay since they could sleep on the way to the babysitter. Hour #3 was spent driving to the babysitter.
Ellie has family in the Kansas City, MO, area that graciously agreed to watch our angels while we went to the football game. The only catch was we had to drive from our hotel, which was in the northern part of Kansas City, to their home, which was in Kansas. I thought they lived in a southern suburb of Kansas City, but it was actually more of a western suburb of Bucyrus, KS, pop. 1964. Their country home was 40 miles from our hotel, and while it wasn’t on a gravel road, the pavement did stop at their driveway.
We dropped off the kids, took a tour of their lovely home, helped everyone get settled in, and returned to the road two hours before kickoff. We wanted to tailgate in our own, lame, parents-of-three-small-children way, so we stopped for barbecue along the way. We parked the car an hour before kickoff, sat in folding chairs beneath the opened tailgate for protection from the rain, and munched on smoked pork cut in every conceivable fashion. For a brief moment, we were tailgaters.
The game was mostly a dud. The Chief offense was listless, the Bengal offense was methodically overpowering, and the fans insisted on doing the tomahawk chop. It was a two-touchdown game at half, but felt like a blowout. The highlight was a second-half downpour that soaked fans in the first 33 rows while we sat in dry comfort in row 36, protected by the overhang from the upper deck. Oh, and we got to watch what may be Trent Green’s last game. The final score was 23-10, though we left before the Chiefs’ only touchdown.
We returned to the kids to find them awake and in good spirits. The boys barely napped in our six-hour absence, and Abbie didn’t nap. We felt confident everyone would sleep for the entire car ride, so Ellie decided to make the ride a little longer by visiting Stephenson’s Restaurant, which was an extra 15 minutes past our hotel. This is Ellie’s favorite Kansas City area restaurant, and even though I wasn’t hungry after tailgating, I wanted to see what it was like.
Unfortunately, it was much nicer than I expected. I felt underdressed walking around in Chiefs paraphernalia, but felt better when some patrons asked us how the game went. More unfortunately, our children were not cooperative in this fine establishment despite sleeping for the entire drive. The boys screamed while I prepared their bottles, sucked them dry, and kept screaming. I hastily prepared an extra few ounces of formula with water from our drinking glasses, and that settled them into a dull murmur.
As bad as the boys were, Abbie was much worse, screaming most of the time she was in the dining room. The only things that quieted her were walks around the lobby and sippy cups full of complimentary cider. Our waitress put Abbie’s order in as soon as we arrived, but she even refused to eat most of it, pushing away the marshmallow fluff and the chicken strips. She was so upset that she could barely eat her fries.
While Ellie walked Abbie about the lobby and I sat with the boys barely keeping them content, I asked the waitress to bring us the rest of our food in boxes, and we’d return to the hotel. We were doubtlessly annoying the other patrons, and weren’t exactly enjoying our experience either. The waitress graciously complied. I felt so guilty I left an extra generous tip on the check. Ellie felt so guilty she bought a jug of cider and some seasonings from the lobby. I wish we had coordinated our guilt assuaging.
The kids all fell back asleep on the short drive back to the hotel. We returned in time to start the bedtime routine. It involved a lot of screaming, but all children fell asleep. I fell asleep shortly afterwards, comforted by the promise of a more laid-back day 3.
It’s not like we’re insane fans who need to do something silly before going to the game like apply body paint, gas up the tailgating bus, or grill with charcoal. We needed to drop the kids off at a babysitter because there’s no conceivable way to take three small children to an NFL game. We’d spend the entire game juggling children, trying to make someone nap in an environment that prides itself on producing a noise level equivalent to a jet engine, and trying to quiet someone else while the offense was on the field.
We spent hour #1 preparing ourselves, showering, eating, and adorning red shirts. We spent hour #2 preparing the kids earlier than they’re used to waking up, but we figured it would be okay since they could sleep on the way to the babysitter. Hour #3 was spent driving to the babysitter.
Ellie has family in the Kansas City, MO, area that graciously agreed to watch our angels while we went to the football game. The only catch was we had to drive from our hotel, which was in the northern part of Kansas City, to their home, which was in Kansas. I thought they lived in a southern suburb of Kansas City, but it was actually more of a western suburb of Bucyrus, KS, pop. 1964. Their country home was 40 miles from our hotel, and while it wasn’t on a gravel road, the pavement did stop at their driveway.
We dropped off the kids, took a tour of their lovely home, helped everyone get settled in, and returned to the road two hours before kickoff. We wanted to tailgate in our own, lame, parents-of-three-small-children way, so we stopped for barbecue along the way. We parked the car an hour before kickoff, sat in folding chairs beneath the opened tailgate for protection from the rain, and munched on smoked pork cut in every conceivable fashion. For a brief moment, we were tailgaters.
The game was mostly a dud. The Chief offense was listless, the Bengal offense was methodically overpowering, and the fans insisted on doing the tomahawk chop. It was a two-touchdown game at half, but felt like a blowout. The highlight was a second-half downpour that soaked fans in the first 33 rows while we sat in dry comfort in row 36, protected by the overhang from the upper deck. Oh, and we got to watch what may be Trent Green’s last game. The final score was 23-10, though we left before the Chiefs’ only touchdown.
We returned to the kids to find them awake and in good spirits. The boys barely napped in our six-hour absence, and Abbie didn’t nap. We felt confident everyone would sleep for the entire car ride, so Ellie decided to make the ride a little longer by visiting Stephenson’s Restaurant, which was an extra 15 minutes past our hotel. This is Ellie’s favorite Kansas City area restaurant, and even though I wasn’t hungry after tailgating, I wanted to see what it was like.
Unfortunately, it was much nicer than I expected. I felt underdressed walking around in Chiefs paraphernalia, but felt better when some patrons asked us how the game went. More unfortunately, our children were not cooperative in this fine establishment despite sleeping for the entire drive. The boys screamed while I prepared their bottles, sucked them dry, and kept screaming. I hastily prepared an extra few ounces of formula with water from our drinking glasses, and that settled them into a dull murmur.
As bad as the boys were, Abbie was much worse, screaming most of the time she was in the dining room. The only things that quieted her were walks around the lobby and sippy cups full of complimentary cider. Our waitress put Abbie’s order in as soon as we arrived, but she even refused to eat most of it, pushing away the marshmallow fluff and the chicken strips. She was so upset that she could barely eat her fries.
While Ellie walked Abbie about the lobby and I sat with the boys barely keeping them content, I asked the waitress to bring us the rest of our food in boxes, and we’d return to the hotel. We were doubtlessly annoying the other patrons, and weren’t exactly enjoying our experience either. The waitress graciously complied. I felt so guilty I left an extra generous tip on the check. Ellie felt so guilty she bought a jug of cider and some seasonings from the lobby. I wish we had coordinated our guilt assuaging.
The kids all fell back asleep on the short drive back to the hotel. We returned in time to start the bedtime routine. It involved a lot of screaming, but all children fell asleep. I fell asleep shortly afterwards, comforted by the promise of a more laid-back day 3.
posted by Matt at
11:35 PM
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