Papa and Nana's Pre-Christmas Extravaganza, Pt. II

A chill morning with Papa and Nanna

Alright, so here's the second installment for this year's Holiday visit with Papa and Nana.  Gingerbread houses, restaurants, and a butt-load of fake snow.

Check it out:

Coloring, in both digital and analog

Revisiting the old hammock attraction at the Sheraton Vistana Villages 

This visit's required Girls-on-the-Bridge shot

The treacherous Rock Wall

Heading home and singing Christmas Carols (obnoxiously, of course.)

(They had to wait out in our front yard for awhile, as Kris and I were having my oil changed up the road when they showed up. . . so here's a random portrait in front of Monster Bush.)

We decided that it might be fun for the girls to construct their very own Gingerbread House this year. . .

Fortunately they sell Gingerbread House Kits these days so bumpkins like us can throw it together without cooking the shit from scratch ('cause we all know how that would turn out.)

Typical.

After we 'glued' the house panels together with icing, we had to wait 15 minutes. . . and so, out come the devices.

After Intermission, it was decorating time. . .

The shark circles in the water. . .

'One for the house, one for me' was definitely Abby's mantra for this activity.

I was forced to hold this thing together while it dried - if I let go, we'd have a housing collapse on our hands (we all know how those go.)

The finished product. . . which looks EXACTLY like the box.

(I'm trying to hide in the background, but can't let go of the house yet.)

Abby gets her nails did.

Labels are always necessary.

The gingerbread structure completed, Dad and Cindy took us out to Planet Hollywood (they had been given a gift certificate for the establishment from the timeshare people they blew off.)

Last time we were here, I almost dropped Abby down these stairs, as I had forgotten to strap her in to her infant car seat. . . like the awesome father that I am.

Fortunately, the service here was better than our last visit (it couldn't have been worse, honestly.)

The kids behaved themselves, too. . . which is always a rare treat.

Leaving the restaurant and heading out through Downtown Disney's Maze of Bullshit, en route to our next family adventure. . .

. . . Celebration, FL.  I despise this place, but Kris really wanted to come back for the snow, and convinced Dad and Cindy it was worth checking out, so I the votes were against me.

Fake snow, rich people style.

We barely made it for the 8pm 'snowfall' - if we had missed it, we would've had to wait around for the 9pm one, as they only do it every hour on the hour, for about fifteen minutes or so.  That was something I was definitely not cool with.

Ultimately, though, the kids enjoyed themselves, so I guess that's all that matters.

The concept of fake snow must be amusing to winter-hardened Michiganders like my folks. . .

Abby tries to clutch snowflakes (unsuccessfully.)

The Houghs

Setting up the girls' hide-a-bed back at Papa and Nana's suite (yes, once again we gladly pounced on the opportunity to off-load our kids on someone else for the night.)

The End of Part II - stay tuned for the thrilling conclusion.

- Brian

Planet Crap

Dearest Foodery Patrons,

Lately, Kris and I have been going out every Saturday with the kids and eating out like we used to before we had kids. It's a 'hit or miss' sorta thing. Usually the kids do really well, too - which is surprising seeing how the Cannonball's two and everything.

So tonight we once again went out to eat, and this time decided to hit up Downtown Disney since we hadn't been there in awhile and figured one of those restaurants down there would be cool with the girls. We hadn't eaten at Planet Hollywood in probably three years or so, and so we settled on that one.

I'm going to stress 'settled' here.

The first red flag we should've picked up on was the fact there was an hour-long wait. That's the sort of thing you're supposed to acknowledge prior to eating out at a sit-down restaurant. I get that. Why we didn't pick up on this, I don't know. Perhaps it had something to do with the two screaming kids we had with us at the time. Who knows.

Anyway, the place was packed full, and our clan was sat next to a large table of tourists, tucked away on the second floor balcony. This was the second red flag. For starters, being significantly off the waiter beaten path almost guarantees that you're going to be getting your food luke-warm at best. Secondofly, being sat next to a large table of tourists both a.) creates an atmosphere that makes you want to kill yourself, and b.) distracts your waiter, who is trying to get the most of his tables as humanly possible.

...and if you're a waiter, who are you going to try and get a bigger tip out of? The two parents ordering entrees and beers, with their kids picking at the side-dishes, or the twenty-person, multiple-course, touristy-souvenier glass-purchasing, booze-flowing, feasting table? Its a no-brainer, and we're not getting on the waiter's case about showing more love to the tourists than us.

What did piss us off about this particular dining experience was that we ordered our food, and spoke not a word to our waiter until he picked up our credit card when we paid. He never once asked us how things were, what we needed, if we were finished, etc. I didn't even get the opportunity to order a beer with my meal - me! The waiting itself was almost even worse - it took twenty minutes to get our waters and the kid's chocolate milk, and then an additional hour to get our food.


Well, long story short, it ended up running us something like $25 total... which was pretty cheap, seeing how we didn't get the opportunity to order half the crap we wanted to. And real quick, I'd just like to say that there are very few instances where I tip less than 30%, as I like to think of myself and someone who can truly understand and appreciate just how crappy it can be working for serving the collective stupidity of the United States. Those in service have it rough, and if I see effort I reward it graciously. But when I don't see effort, I'm like Sherman the frickin' Sea.


Having said that... what did I leave this particular waiter for his (lack of) services? I gave him $1.


He got a buck from me and he was lucky to get it. After all, he did bring our food to us (eventually). The bottom line is this, though: if you know you're going to be busy, set up a routine beforehand so that you're making sure you're covering your bases... that's your job. Otherwise, be ready to be screwed tip-wise.

- Brian