The Lumberjack's Wife

We are taking a break from the Cancun posts because:

A)  Something better happened last night

B)  I don’t think anything else really happened in Cancun.  I will ponder it. 

Hmmm . . .

C)  Ok, more stuff happened, but this is more pressing and will be posted about today.

Last night, after dinner, the Lumberjack asked me if I could please give him a haircut.

Of course, I first checked him for a fever.

When I realized he was of sound mind and sound body, I asked him if he remembered the last time I gave him a haircut.

LJ (Lumberjack!  Focus, people!):  Yeah.  You did a terrible job.

Me:  I know.  You immediately drove to Great Clips to have it fixed

LJ:  Yup.

Me:  And the Great Clips lady could not believe how horrible of a job I did.  And the two of you made fun of me.

LJ:  Yup.

Me:  So . . . . why are we revisiting this?

LJ:  Because my hair is driving me crazy.  I’m just going to have you shave it all one length.  You can’t mess it up.

Me:  Ok.  Let’s get the boys, too.

LJ:  Sounds like a plan.  Have I told you lately that you are the most wonderful wife a man could ever ask for?

Me:  Yes!  You tell me everyday.

Or something like that . . .

Before we begin, let us examine this picture.

Interruption:  Daisy Mae took most of the pictures for this post.

Look at how thrilled my Lumberjack is.

Look at how messy my pantry is.

Oh! 

Goodness!

Will you look at that!

Once upon a time, a dashing electrician came into my home and prepared the wiring for a grand and exquisite under-cabinet lighting system.

Yes.

We are high-class.

But, alas!

That dashing electrician has not returned to finish the job, leaving me, the fair maiden to resort to taping up the ugly wires so they do not poke me in the eyes.

And now, it seems that the tape is failing me.

I must figure out a way to summon that dashing electrician again.

Lumberjack!

You are that electrician.

Anyways . . . he let me cut his hair.

Ha!

Who has the goofy eyes in the picture now, Lumberjack?

And in order to have complete concentration, the dudes were locked out of the kitchen.

Poor Dudes.

They were not pleased.

Guess who else was not pleased?

My Lumberjack.

He decided to take matters into his own hands.

Oh, well.

At least I tried.

Handsome Dude’s turn!

After seeing what his mother did to his father’s hair, he is not sure if this is a good idea.

Dad!

Hey, Dad!

Is this a good plan?

Dad?

Sweet Pea was certain everyone was out to ruin her evening.

“Guys!  This is just so frus-ter-ate-ing!  I came in the kitchen for quiet so I could work on my number scrolls and now everyone is just bothering me.  And if I don’t do it, I don’t get a popsicle!”

So much drama and hardship for a 7-year-old.

Yes.

That is a suitcase.

Clearly, we are too lazy to put it away.

Little Dude’s turn!

Please take a moment to admire his thick, luscious hair.

You will need this visual in a few moments.

Interruption:  Daisy Mae took this picture of herself.

Yes.

Her skills are amazing.

But, please notice the temporary tattoo on her neck.

It has been there for 2 weeks.

How can one remove such a thing?

100 (meaningless) point to whoever can tell me how to remove this eyesore from my child’s neck.

Little Dude does not like getting his hair cut.

So, I finish up and go start the bath for my dudes.

The Lumberjack is cleaning up Little Dude and decides he should just trim up a little around Little Dude’s ears.

Handsome Dude comes into the bathroom with me.

Ridiculous Statement I make as I enter the bathroom: 

“Boy!  It’s a good thing I deep-cleaned the bathroom today!  Can’t even tell now!  My life is pointless!”

Then . . . I hear it.

Shrieks of terror and fear.

My girls run into the bathroom.

They are crying and covered in snot.

“Mom!  Dad is ruining Cokey-the Bear!”

Fact:  Little Dude’s nickname is Cokey-the Bear.  It’s a long story.

So, I rush to the kitchen.

And this, my dear readers, is what I found:

*gasp!*

He was, in fact, ruining Cokey-the-Bear!

And this, my friends, is where we lost all control of the children.

Exhibit A:

Sweet Pea has resorted to wailing and shouting:

“You made my baby brother look like a bald, old man!”

Exhibit B:

Handsome Dude has wandered out of the bathroom and keeps repeating:

“Daddy, naughty?  Daddy, naughty?”

Ridiculous Statement I made: 

“Daisy Mae!  No more naked pictures of Handsome Dude!  We don’t take pictures of naked people!”

Daisy Mae hands over the camera and runs into the living room.

Exhibit C:

Daisy Mae has thrown herself onto the couch and is moaning:

“He doesn’t even look like my Cokey-the-Bear anymore!  I want my Cokey-the-Bear!”

Well, folks.

There is no other way to say it.

My husband ruined Cokey-the-Bear.

But, hey!

At least we saved money on not one, not two, but three haircuts!

Poor Little Dude/Cokey-the-Bear.

*sigh*

I did what any good mother would do.

I told him he was still the most handsomest Cokey-the-Bear in the whole entire world and I gave him a big bowl of cake.

So . . . tell me.

Do you cut your family’s hair?

Happy Wednesday!

Alright.

Back to the Cancun vacation recap.

If you would like to catch up, click here to start at the beginning and work your way up to this point.

We have come to Wednesday.

Wednesday was cold, gray, and a little rainy.

So, we took the advice of Waldo, and decided to do a little shopping.

He recommended we go to Market 28.

And, without further ado, I present to you:

Ten Things Tuesday, Market 28 Edition

or

Ten Things Tuesday:  The Fateful Day that this Photo was Taken

I went with the first title.

You go with whatever title you see fit.

Interruption:  I am feeling a little random today.  Forgive me.

1)  In order to get to Market 28, we must ride the city bus.  Now, according to Waldo, you cannot see Market 28 from the bus.  So you have to hope the bus driver shouts it out when it is time to get off.  So, we get on and we ask him to do so.

Darn our luck, he is not cooperating.

Lucky for us, we have Cancun’s most avid-traveller, who also happens to be an American citizen, sitting right next to us and she helps us get off the bus.

2)  Nonetheless, we do not know where to go once we get off the bus. 

I think we should go one way. 

The Lumberjack thinks we should go another. 

The Lumberjack gets his way. 

The Lumberjack always gets his way.

3)  The Lumberjack leads us through a creepy alley.

I am trying to remain cool and collected.

I don’t think I succeeded. 

After about 30 minutes of wandering, we stumble upon Market 28.

4)  Market 28 is like a big, open flea market where locals are trying to sell whatever they can do any tourist who comes their way.

They know just enough English to get by, but if you ask them questions, they don’t understand you.

“Honeymooners!  Please come to my store.”

“Right this way, honeymooners.”

“Please come in.  I good deals.”

“Come in.  Come in.  Come in.  Come in.  Come in.  Si.  No?  You come back then.”

5)  Now.

I do not like their pushiness.

When I go to Old Navy, the sales clerk does not follow me around and say,

“Please, miss!  Try on this t-shirt.”

“No, come this way, miss.”

“Miss!  Don’t you like this skirt?”

“Miss!  Are you sure you are that size?”

No.

She leaves me be so I can shop in peace.

And that, my friends, is the way shopping is meant to be.

So, even if I saw something that piqued (ooh!  a fancy word!  look at me!)  my interest, if the shop owner was too pushy for me, I would walk on by.

I sure showed them.

I ended up only going into 4 stores owned by the most unfriendly people who did not care to say a word to me.

But at least they were not pushy.

6)  Our goal at Market 28 was to purchase gifts to take home to the 4 lumberjacklings. 

At one store, I found some cute little necklaces for our girls.

Aren’t they sweet?

As I am looking over the necklaces, the shop owner informs me that everything is

“Just one dollar, Honeymooners!”

Sweet.

I can do that.

So I pick out two necklaces.

Lumberjack:  You can’t just give him $2 for those.

Me:  Yes, I can.

Lumberjack:  No.  You have to barter.  Remember?  Waldo said.

Me:  I don’t barter.

Lumberjack:  Fine.  I will do it.

So, I walked away and let him work his magic.

When he came back, I asked him how much he paid for both of them.

“$7”

“What?!  They were only $2 to begin with.”

“I know.  Just start walking.”

“But you bartered the wrong way!  You missed the point!”

“Just walk away.  I didn’t understand what he was saying.”

Interesting, Lumberjack.

Interesting.

7)  We came to a point in the Market where I felt the need to take a picture and capture this moment in time.

Rico Suave here invited himself into the picture.

Dudes.

He is giving the Lumberjack bunny ears and nothing else.

Get your minds out of the gutter.

I also snapped this photo:

I like it.

I feel it as a certain “Senior Picture-ish” sort of quality.

8)  The time came for us to leave. 

As we were exiting, 14 kind, yet pushy, taxi drivers offered us a ride to our hotel for only $10.

I found this to be quite reasonable.

But the Lumberjack, in all his frugalness, said we would get back on the bus, as it was only $1.20.

So, we try to find the bus.

9)  2 hours later, we are still trying to find the bus.

I am starting to get annoyed at my frugal man, but trying not to let it show.

I mean, what fun is a honeymoon if you are fighting with your spouse?

But, then again, what fun is a honeymoon if you are Lumberjack-napped?

Hmmm . . . .

Thoughts to ponder.

10)  We FINALLY found the bus. 

After 2 hours of walking the streets of Cancun.

And not the hotel zone of Cancun.

The regular part of Cancun.

Where no other tourists exist.

We sit down on the bus, and I turn to the Lumberjack and jokingly say,

“Boy!  That taxi probably would have been the way to go!”

And would you like to know what he said?

“Nah.  I don’t mind walking.”

Lies, Lumberjack!

Lies!

I declare, Lumberjack, that you are just trying to save face because you know you got us lost.

But I let it slide.

It was our honeymoon, after all.

****

We returned to our hotel.

I cheered up because it was time to eat.

And I ate a lot.

I ordered off the menu and visited the buffet.

Then we went to the pool where I looked at other girls in their swimsuits and wondered how they stayed so trim.

For dinner that night, we had reservations at one of the fancier restaurants in the hotel.

We decided that fancy is not our style.

I cannot, for the life of me, understand how “Baby Adobo Goat in Cream Chile Sauce” could ever sound more appealing than “Pizza.”

Fact:  It was on Wednesday that I started missing the kids terribly.

Fact:  I saw a Spanish baby wipes commercial that triggered my emotions.

Fact:  As we were eating our fancy dinner, I had tears of sorrow streaming down my face as I tried to help the Lumberjack understand how a baby wipes commercial in a language that I did not comprehend could make me cry and miss my children so.

Fact:  The Lumberjack still does not understand me.

Happy Tuesday!

First of  all, before I recap the weekend, I wanted to thank you all for you kind thoughts and comments regarding my grandmother.  She is still pretty sick, but I am extremely grateful that me, my husband, and the kids got to all see her again.  She was pretty alert and I had a couple nice little conversations with her, which I am thankful for.

Thank you.

On Friday afternoon, around 4pm, we loaded up and headed out-of-town.

Look at the kids . . . doing great if I do say so myself . . . .

True . . . this picture was taken before we had even left town . . .

But just look at how well it is going!

I’m sure it is on account of my sweet parenting skills.

I don’t wanna brag, but I’m kind of the bomb.

Ok . . ok . . .ok.

I’m not the bomb.

20 minutes into the trip, these were the shouts of anarchy we heard from the backseat:

Interruption:  Who knew that young children could be filled with such rage?

“Mom!  She’s looking at me mean!”

“Mom!  Her stuff’s on my side!”

“Mom!  I am soooooooooooo bored.”

“Mom!  When do we break for dinner?”

“Mom!  She won’t share her DS!”

“Mom!  When do get a snack?”

“Mom!  I have to pee!”

“Mom!  I’m bored!”

“Mom!  Turn your music down!  I can’t hear my DS!”

“Mom!  Where are we going?”

“Mom!  Can we go swimming?”

“Mom!  Truck bye-bye big bishie bye-bye in da wah-wer!”

That would be the 2 year old.

“Maaaaaaaaaaaaaaa. MoMoNoNoNoNo. Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.”

That would be the 1 year old.

Don’t be jealous of my boys’ brilliant early language skills.

Perhaps, if you are so lucky, one day I will post about my sweet early language lessons so your children can be as brilliant as mine.

Until then, you will just have to come to terms with the fact that my boys are ahead of yours.

Deal with it.

So, the Lumberjack is all about making good time.

So, I had to resort to limiting my fluid-intake so as to not frazzle him or upset him in any way.

And I still had to ask him to stop three times.

Yes.

I failed him.

To make up for lost time, he decided we should have everyone eat dinner in the car.

For the first time.

Ever.

Oh, joy.

So, I got to sit in the backseat between the two dudes and help them eat their dinner.

Now this, gentle readers, was a treat.

And I got to stress about how the Lumberjack was going to eat a salad and drive us safely to our destination.

Of course on the night he is drive-eating he gets a notion to eat healthy and chooses a salad.

Cheeseburger, Lumberjack.

Cheeseburger.

Any-who . . . as I was searching for the FM modulator (FM-who?  Exactly.) for Sir Salad, I came across these

bullets.

I guess you never do know when you are going to need a spare bullet.

I can’t, for the life of me, get him to put one of those ice-scraper thingies in my car.

But bullets, he remembers.

Weird, Lumberjack.

Weird.

Right after we ate, guess what happened?

The good news is, 3 kids slept for 3 hours.

 

Can you guess what the bad news was?

This.  

This was the bad news.

Yes.

Handsome Dude’s pajamas are on backwards.

He prides himself on dressing himself.

And we are too tired to care anymore.

And, yes.

This fun lasted from the hours of 10:30pm-12:30am.

I am certain that the other hotel patrons loved us.

Oh, yes.

Loved us.

We may or may not have given 2 out of 4 children a small dose of Benadryl.

Don’t judge.

You would do it, too.

Alright.  So, on to Saturday.

Now, on Saturday, we were first to meet up with the Lumberjack’s little brother, Jason.

Do you all remember Jason?

Now, Jason lives in the very same exact town as we do.

Yet, why are we meeting up with him two states away?

Hmmm . . . . interesting.

I told you my in-laws are weird.

So, Jason wants us to go to this REI sale with him.

Yes.

Does not REI sound like the store of my dreams?

So, we MapQuest it, cause we are technologically hip like that, and we head off to meet Jason.

Two states away.

Who we see weekly in our hometown.

Interruption:  Can we not all agree that Handsome Dude is such a precious little dude?  I mean look at him.

Cowboy boots?

Check.

Horsie?

Check.

Glasses?

Check and hallelujah!

Precious boy pointing at big manly man truck?

Check.

Now, this REI had parking in a parking garage.

Raise your hand if you drive any sort of large van, SUV, or truck.

Are not parking garages the most terrifying beasts you can encounter while driving in such large rigs?

Am I the only one who ducks the entire time?

We are not certain if our rig was technically too big for this particular parking garage.

Thoughts?

So, anyways, we walk around REI for some time and we do not find Jason.

Remember Jason?

Oh, I crack myself up.

So we call him.

Turns out we are the wrong REI.

Silly us.

Who knew a city could have more than one?

So, we find him and all is well.

Now, back in the days of old, I wrote a post recapping a camping trip.

I mentioned that on this particular camping trip, my mother-in-law informed Jason that it was about time he “got a honey.”

Attention Mother-in-Law:

MISSION ACCOMPLISHED!

Jason!

You silly boy, you!

That’s why you are so far from home!

You got a honey!

Yay!

And, her name is Amy and we enjoyed her company thoroughly.

And she didn’t even seem horrified or overwhelmed by our crazy offspring.

She’s a keeper!

So, we did a lot of visiting with my grandma and other relatives who live in that region.

It was lovely and fun and we had a grand time.

I, however, neglected to take pictures of such events.

I know, I know.

Boo, Taylor.

Boo.

I did, however, remember to take pictures of us going through the car wash.

Why?

Because it scared the bajibbers out of my boys that’s why!

And, personally, I found it to be hilarious.

Is that bad?

And, in conclusion, here are just a few more random shots from our quick road trip:

Yes.

We pride ourselves on a tidy hotel room.

Now that’s just cute.

Can we please stop and have a moment of applause for Handsome Dude?

Handsome Dude did not lose his glasses once during the course of this adventure.

Hooray, Handsome Dude!

Hooray!

BOOOOORRRREEEEEEDDDOOOMM.

Wait a tick!

Those two kids look strangely like Handsome Dude and Daisy Mae!

Have they been lumberjackling-napped?

I kid!

I jest!

Those fine folks are my parents and they offered to take on half the crew for bit.

Foolish idea, Mom and Dad.

Foolish.

Sweet Pea helping Little Dude watch a video.

Precious to my heart.

Well, that concludes this edition of Weekend Update!

Hope you all had wonderful weekends!

Later, Dudes!

 

Hola!

Welcome back  to my super-exciting recap of my vacation to Mexico with Sir Lumberjack!

To start from the beginning, click here.

On Tuesday, we did nothing.

Well, we sat.

And we ate.

We ate often.

We ate because it was time to eat.

We ate because it wasn’t time to eat.

We ate because we hadn’t tried something.

We ate because it was free.

We ate because someone next to us was eating.

We ate because someone next to us wasn’t eating.

We also did some reading.

Now, you might remember that when we were at Walmart, the Lumberjack tried to get me to buy some sunglasses.

I have never worn sunglasses.

Because I look ridiculous in them.

So, I did not buy any.

Now, I had a revelation on Tuesday.

People buy sunglasses because they are helpful!

It can get kind of tricky to sit out in the sun all day long and try to read a book while squinting.

So, would you like to know what my Lumberjack did?

He took me to the hotel gift shop and made me buy a pair of sunglasses right then and there.

And he didn’t even comment on how the sunglasses at Walmart were 70 pesos and the sunglasses at the giftshop were 180 pesos.

Interruption:  If you are going to travel to Mexico, make sure you brush up on your 12’s times tables.

The exchange rate while we were there was 12 pesos to 1 dollar.

At least I think that’s what the plan was.

We’ll see how it all works out when we get the credit card bill.

Yikes!

I look like something el cato drug in.

100 (meaningless) points to anyone who knows the Spanish word for cat.

But check out my super cool glasses!

They are sitting atop my head.

The Lumberjack had a grand time teasing me for the remainder of the trip about these sunglasses.

It seems you are only supposed to wear these contraptions while in the sun.

I would put them on in the morning when we were leaving our hotel room.

You know.

As part of my accessorizing routine.

Earrings?

Check.

Necklace?

Check.

Sunglasses?

Check.

“Dude.  It’s pretty sunny in here, isn’t it?”

Funny, Lumberjack.

Funny.

I would have them atop my head while in the sun.

“Bet those sunglasses are helping out right now.”

Hilarious, Lumberjack.

Hilarious.

“Did you lose your sunglasses yet?”

“Did you break your sunglasses yet?”

“Hey, hon!  We are going into a dark restaurant!  Put on your sunglasses!”

Oh, he thinks he is so funny.

But then I show him my muscles and he knows it is best to hush up.

Good news!

We figured out the self-timer on our tricky camera!

Kind of.

It’s hit and miss, really.

Oh, look!

Pay attention, folks.

This here is a rarity.

It is a picture of us at a restaurant.

Gosh, we were so busy hiking, shopping, snorkeling, swimming, and sight-seeing that we almost forgot about taking time to eat!

I’m surprised we didn’t waste away.

After dinner, we decided to walk around the beach and hotel.

Can we all have a moment to reflect on my accomplishments as a photographer?

I mean, look at this lighting.

I find it to be exquisite.

But then again, I really have no idea what makes a good picture.

So, for all I know this could be terrible.

But I like to think I am a good photographer.

If this doesn’t scream creativity, I don’t know what does.

Just let me have my moment.

 

Wait a tick!

Well, what’s this we’ve encountered?

Ah . . . .

It is lounge singer.

And he is taking requests!

And he wants people to dance!

Now, that’s entertainment.

Some people could really dance!

And some could not.

Those people could.

They were doing the salsa!

I think.

Aye Carumba!

Fact:  I do not know what Aye Carumba technically means, if that is how it is spelled, nor if that would be the correct way to use it in a sentence.

It just sounded appropriate.

Senor Lounge Singer was really wanting the Lumberjack and I to participate.

“Hola, Honeymooners!”

Oh, for the love of Pete.

“Pick a song, honeymooners!  Pick a song!”

Hmmmm . . .

What could a Lumberjack and his Lumberjill contribute to a dance off in Cancun?

Achy-breaky heart?

(Name that artist)

Ring of Fire?

(Name that artist)

Convoy?

(Name that artist and promise me you will never listen to that song.  It is . . . odd)

I don’t think Senor Lounge Singer would  know any of those tunes.

“Honeymooners!  Song, por favor?!”

LJ to me:  Got any requests?

Me:  Dude!  We could teach them how to line dance!

LJ:  Dude!  NO.

Me:  Well, we certainly don’t salsa!

LJ:  Dude!  NO.

Me:  Well, we did take swing dance in college together!

LJ:  Dude!  NO.

So, we had to inform the crowds that the honeymooners would just be spectators.

You can understand their disappointment.

Boo, Lumberjack.

We could have had our moment, you and I.

Our 15 minutes of fame, if you will.

Boo.

Happy Thursday!

Tell me . . . can you dance?

Oh, dear.

I forgot to mention something in yesterday’s post that happened on Sunday.

It happens.

After we ate and relaxed and ate and relaxed, we decided to go to Walmart.

What?

Walmart?

In Cancun?

Yes.

You heard me correctly.

My suitcase was damaged during the trip and would not longer zip closed.

And that would not do.

I considered just leaving all my belongings behind.

But then I remembered that I had borrowed several of Bimlissa’s belongings as well.

And I don’t think she would like it if I abandoned her entire summer wardrobe in Cancun.

She can hold a grudge something fierce.

I mean . . . just look at her.

Oh, to think of what she would do to me.

I shudder at the thought.

So,  on Sunday night, the Lumberjack and I hopped on the city bus and hoped to find Walmart.

Interruption:  You have not lived until you have ridden the city bus in Mexico to a Walmart.

We get off the bus at what appears to be the correct stop.

But we cannot be certain, for we no habla espanol.

And we no read espanol.

We start walking and out of nowhere the same bus pulls up to us and starts honking.

The bus driver is yelling at us.

“No, Amigos! Bienvenidos picante calliente sol sombrero!”

Reminder: Me no habla espanol and me no remember espanol.

Turns out we were going the wrong way.

So, the kind bus driver points us in the right direction and off we go.

Color us embarrassed.

I am happy to report that we found the Walmart.

The Lumberjack decided he needed sunglasses.

Seriously.

He is so high-maintenance.

LJ (Lumberjack, people!):  Dude!  You should totally get some sunglasses.

Me:  Dude!  You know how ridiculous I look when I wear sunglasses.

LJ:  I know!  It’s freakin’ hilarious!  Get some.

Back in the days of yore, my high school peers informed me that my face did not have the necessary forehead-to-rest-of-face size ratio compatible to attractively wearing sunglasses.

It would seem that my eyes are set too low in my face.

I have carried this insecurity with me ever since.

No.

I did not buy them.

Yes.

He did buy them.

Next we walked around Walmart approximately 4.7 times looking for a suitcase.

I asked 3 workers if they spoke English.

They looked at me as if I were an insane crazy person.

Finally, a man walked up to me and said,

“I speak English.  What do you need?”

“Oh, thank you!  I need a suitcase!  We are travelling-we are from the States, actually, and something must have happened during the flight because when we got to our hotel and I went to open my suitcase the zipper was completely broken.  And, finally, I could open it and get what was inside, but there is no way I can close it again, so I need a new one.  Which is why we are here!”

Kind, English-speaking man pointed straight ahead of me and walked away.

Sometimes people tell me I talk too much.

And it was at that moment that I pondered that thought.

1000 pesos later, we were on our way!

And that, my friends, concludes Sunday.

*****

Monday.

Monday was tour day.

We get on a bus.

Our tour guide tell us his name is Ventura, but we can call him Ace.

It took me a minute, but I got it.

We drove 2 hours to get to our destination.

Oh, Mylanta!

When we signed up for this tour, we were told we were going to a place called Xel-Ha.

It was described to us a place with rivers, caves, bikes, free food (score!), free drinks (score!), dolphins, fishies, free ice cream (yessssssssssssssss), and snorkeling.

We paid $192 for the both of us.

And that was after our Carlos/Waldo discount.

Well, Ace Ventura calls out a handful of people on the bus and tells them they are getting off at Xel-Ha, where they can play in the water and eat and drink to their heart’s delight.

Then, Senor Ventura tells the rest of us we are first going to a place called Tulum for 2 hours before heading back to Xel-Ha.

“Tulum is very hot.  Very, very hot.  No shade.  Do not bring your backpacks.  It will be too hot.”

Wow.

That sounds fun.

“At Tulum, there is no food or drink.  You only get drink when you get to Xel-Ha.”

Hmmm . . . me no likey.

“Do not use bathrooms at Tulum.  They are not pleasant.”

Dude.

You’re killing me.

“We will have 2 hour tour of ancient ruins at Tulum and then we will head back to Xel-ha.  Ok?  Si?  Frijole?  Bien!”

The Lumberjack looked at me.

“Do you want to see ruins?”

Me:  “No!  I will be too thirsty!”

LJ:  Me neither.

Me:  We paid for Xel-Ha.  What is this Tulum he speaks of?

LJ:  Let’s tell him we are supposed to get off at Xel-Ha, not Tulum.

So, we find Ace Ventura.

LJ:  We are supposed to go to Xel-Ha.

Ace Ventura:  You don’t want to go to Tulum?

He seemed hurt.

LJ:  No.  Just Xel-Ha.

Ace:  Ok.  That is fine.  You just go with other group.

Us:  Sweet!

Idiot Alert:  We later discovered that if we had just paid for Xel-Ha, the regular price would have been $75 each.

We paid extra for Tulum.

Who would pay extra for Tulum?

Are they all insane?

So . . . we head into Xel-Ha.

Now.

I am not a girl who snorkels.

I am one of those girls who gets into the pool and alerts everyone within a 2 mile radius that the plan is to not get my hair wet.

And, also, my mascara might run.

Yes.

I am one of those people.

But, my Lumberjack, whom I love with all my being, would really like to do this.

And to prove my undying love for him, I am going to dunk my face into the ocean.

I told him I felt like Jason.

We had a fantastic laugh over that one.

Jason is the Lumberjack’s little brother.

None of you will get that joke.

But we find it quite funny.

Because I don’t want you to feel like the Lumberjack and I have an inside joke we are keeping from you, I will include this picture of Jason from a past camping trip, so you can have a frame of reference:

Oh, dear me.

That guy is a kick in the pants.

I’m sorry, Jason.

Here is a picture of the Lumberjack from that same camping trip.

You know.

I gotta make it Even-Stevens.

Hands off, girls.

That stud-muffin is mine.

All mine.

Who are these peoples that became my family when I married that strange man?

What has become of my life?

And now . . . .

I am one of them.

Or not.

Snorkeling is hard, people!

I could not figure it out!

Everytime I would put my face in, water would fill my goggles and enter my nose.

And then I could not breathe.

And that, my friends, is not safe.

So, I am trying to be a good sport and be the wife that the Lumberjack has always hoped for.

Instead, I am a sputtering idiot with wet hair and mascara running down her cheeks.

So, for the remainder of the snorkeling adventure, the Lumberjack snorkeled and just grabbed my life jacket and pulled me along with him.

And I told him that if a gross, slimy fish touched my leg, we were getting a divorce.

Then he would roll his eyes at me.

And then I would crack another joke about Jason.

And he would laugh and laugh and forget that he was annoyed at me.

Here are some more random pictures from Xel-Ha:

Dolphins!

We did not pay to swim with them for 2 reasons:

1)  We are cheap

2)  Dolphins would qualify as gross, slimy fishies that might touch my legs.

Iguanas.

Gross.

These things were everywhere.

Now, would you look at that face.

Fact:  I asked the Lumberjack if he could believe we had been married for 10 years already.

Would you like to know what he said?

Feels like 30.

How should I take this?

Thoughts?

Don’t judge me about not wanting the gross fishies to touch my legs.

You would freak out, too.

And that, my friends, is why I worry about getting my hair wet.

And why I worry about wearing a swimsuit.

Ok.

I must tell you.

This guy napped constantly on our vacation.

 

I simply left him there and went shopping.

His people snorkel . . . my people shop.

***

We found Ace Ventura again and rode the bus back to our hotel.

Then we changed our clothes and went to dinner.

Have I mentioned that we ate a lot on this trip?

Pop Quiz:  Do you think I gained more weight or The Lumberjack gained more weight?

Happy Wednesday!

Alright.

So, we boarded the plane and no arrests were made.

(Confused?  Click here to catch up!)

We made our travel arrangements through Book It.com and the airline they chose for us was United.

And we had the pleasure of watching this safety video for the first of many, many, many times.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0tmi0Bd4eHs

Yes.

You need to click on that link.

Why?

Because you need to tell me what on earth that lady has on her neck?

What is it’s purpose?

It looks like she stole Amelia Earhart’s flying goggles and strapped them sideways on her neck.

I got real tired of seeing them goggles.

Or maybe it is a ribbon?

Or some other sort of fashionable accessory?

And don’t even get me started on safety guy’s weird multi-colored facial hair.

Boy, I bet you feel left out if you didn’t click on that link.

I told you to do it.

You only have yourselves to blame.

Also, United Airlines invited me to join them on Twitter.

Well, first of all, I don’t understand Twitter.

And, second of all, no.

Now, I did start enjoying my flight when they started showing episodes of The Office and Frasier!

Now that is flying.

When we finally made it to Cancun, we had to wait in line at customs for 2 entire hours.

And I had not eaten lunch.

These sorts of things make me cranky.

We finally made it through all the rigamaroo and we tried to leave the airport.

But, no.

That would not be an easy task.

This was when all the kind peoples stopped us to ask us if we were honeymooners.

Silly foreign peoples.

Don’t they understand that gringas get cranky when they have not eaten.

We get to our hotel.

It is grand and glorious.

I kid you not.

After a very confusing check-in procedure, they slap on our all-inclusive bracelets and send us on our way.

Food!

This means we can eat!

But, wait.

We must get stopped again.

And now, dear readers, I present to you:

Our Conversation with the 9th person to stop and ask us this very question on this hungry, hungry day:

“Hola, honeymooners!  Welcome!”

“No, no.  Not our honeymoon.”

“What!?  Why are you here?”

“Anniversary.”

“Bien!  Bien! Verde muchos los tortillas muy bienvenidos!”

Interruption:  I am simply making stuff up here.

Reminder:  Me no habla espanol and me no remember espanol

“Yes.  Our 10 year anniversary!”

“What!?  No, no no!  How old are you, sir?”

“29”

And, no.

He does not care how old I am.

“You look so young, Senor!  I am 31 and have one bambino.”

Interruption:  100 (meaningless) points to anyone who can tell me what the Spanish word for baby is.

I went with bambino.

You go with your gut.

“We have four bambinos!”

“What?  No!”

“Yes!”

“Tell me, Senors, are you going on any tours while in Cancun?

I would like to tour one of your fine restaurants, Senor Blabs-a-Lot.

“Um . . . maybe?”

“Well, if you book it with the hotel, you can receive 60%off the tour price!  Does that sound good?  No?”

“Yeah.  Sounds great!”

“Ok.  What time you want to come for meeting tomorrow?  8:30?  9:30?”

“Um . . . .”

“Just quick presentation for 90 minutes.  You just listen.  Then you get discount.  You have credit card?”

Danger, Lumberjack!  Danger!  I sense a scheme!

“Yes.”

“Visa?  Mastercard?”

“Um . . . Mastercard?”

“Muy bien!  Muy bien!  Ok.  You leave me deposit of five U.S. dollars and if you come back you can have them back.”

Hmmm . . . .I am thinking he is related to that King of Nigeria who is always emailing me.

“Alright.  Here you go.”

Yes. 

The Lumberjack handed him 5 $1 bills.

No.

I did not try to talk him out of it.

I was too hungry to care.

“Wonderful!  Bien!  Fajitas! Anaranjado!  And if you need anything else you come find me, no?”

“Ok, sounds good!”

Can we eat now?  Me no eat since 0400.

“My name is Waaaaaaaalllllllll-Do . . . ok?”

“Ok?”

“You know.   Like funny American cartoon man with stripey shirt?  Where am I?  Where did I go?”

“Waldo!  Right!  Ok, Waldo!  See you later!”

“Si!  Waldo!  Ok.  One more thing Senor.  Can I call you in the morning to remind you about your presentation?”

“Sure.”

“Wonderful!  Miercoles! Frijoles!  Adios!”

Now, folks.

It is the moment we have been waiting for.

Dinner.

Oh.

My.

Good.

Ness.

Do not put a starving girl in front of a delicious all you can eat buffet and tell her it is free.

And then don’t tell her there is also a menu she can order off of for free.

And please, please, have mercy upon her jeans and do not inform her that she can also order room service any time she would like.

For free.

It was a glorious meal.

And I ate.

A lot.

***

We go to the secret presentation meeting place where we are certain to be scammed.

No Waldo.

Where’s Waldo!?

Oh, I crack myself up.

A kind lady who seems up to par with Waldo’s shennanigans leads us to a secret waiting room.

Where we wait.

Then we have to follow a man named Carlos into the restaurant.

I like Carlos.

Carlos gets me.

Carlos:  Please.  Eat your breakfast.  I wait presentation for you.

Sounds good, Carlos.

Sounds good.

Carlos:  You like this place, no?

Us:  Yes!  It is very nice!

Carlos:  And you like hotel, no?

Us:  Lovely!

Carlos:  Tell me.  Just how important is travel to you.  And do not consider money.

Mayday!  Mayday!

Us:  Um . . . well, we like it.  It is hard to go.  It gets expensive-

Carlos:  No!  Don’t consider money!

Well, Carlos.

I do not appreciate your tone.

LJ (Lumberjack.  Keep up!):  It is very important.

Carlos:  That is what I thought.  Where do you want to go in this life?

Us:  Um . . . .

I want to go to the beach.

Carlos:  Europe?  Australia?  Hawaii?

LJ:  Maybe Alaska?

Carlos: Hmm . . . .but also Europe?

LJ:  Ok.

Carlos:  My job is to guarantee you 50 years worth of vacations.  Would you like to go on vacations for 50 years?

Us:  Um . . . .

Carlos:  It does not matter to me where you go.  Hawaii?  Italy?  It is your problem.  You want to go to Disneyland?  It is your problem.  Not mine.

Ha!  My problem!  He kept saying that!  Love it!

Next, Carlos leads us to a secret pyramid located in our hotel.

Only the extraordinary members of this special and elite club are eligible to stay in this pyramid.

He shows us rooms that have kitchens and living rooms and hot tubs in them.

They are divine.

They are exquisite.

They are expensive.

Carlos leads us back to a secret club meeting room full of other potential club members.

Carlos has been studying us this whole time.

And Carlos has come up with the perfect vacation plan package for us.

And guess what!?

It is only $78,000 US dollars!

Amazing!

But, wait!

It gets better!

We only need to come up with $38,000 right now and then we can make monthly payments of $1800 from now until eternity.

I can see why they are offering us this package.

Clearly, we are . . .

Upper Class.

But, wait!

There’s even more!

Everytime somebody else in that room joined this club, they would all cheer and pop open a bottle of champagne.

And this happened at least 3 times while we were in there.

Who are these people?

What do these people do?

Who can afford this stuff?

Where’s Waldo?

Sadly, we had to break it to Carlos, that no, we cannot afford his vacation plan.

Carlos was a nice guy.

We felt bad that he wasted his time on us.

We held our heads up high, walked past the gloating rich peoples sipping their champagne, and collected our 5 $1 bills.

And did we get our discount on the tour?

You better believe it.

We did not sit through 2 hours of humiliation for nothing.

We milked that presentation for all it was worth.

Then we slapped on some bathing suits and relaxed.

Then we ate.

Then we relaxed.

Then we ate.

Then we relaxed.

Then we ordered nachos by the pool.

Because they were free.

Then we relaxed.

Then we ate.

And then it was time to eat again.

And that, my friends, concludes the retelling of  Saturday and Sunday.

Remember . . . our trip lasted through the next Saturday.

Aren’t you glad I am dragging this out so much?

You’re welcome.

De Nada!

Bibliotecha!

Leche!

Fresa!

 

Alright.

So, we boarded the plane and no arrests were made.

(Confused?  Click here to catch up!)

We made our travel arrangements through Book It.com and the airline they chose for us was United.

And we had the pleasure of watching this safety video for the first of many, many, many times.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0tmi0Bd4eHs

Yes.

You need to click on that link.

Why?

Because you need to tell me what on earth that lady has on her neck?

What is it’s purpose?

It looks like she stole Amelia Earhart’s flying goggles and strapped them sideways on her neck.

I got real tired of seeing them goggles.

Or maybe it is a ribbon?

Or some other sort of fashionable accessory?

And don’t even get me started on safety guy’s weird multi-colored facial hair.

Boy, I bet you feel left out if you didn’t click on that link.

I told you to do it.

You only have yourselves to blame.

Also, United Airlines invited me to join them on Twitter.

Well, first of all, I don’t understand Twitter.

And, second of all, no.

Now, I did start enjoying my flight when they started showing episodes of The Office and Frasier!

Now that is flying.

When we finally made it to Cancun, we had to wait in line at customs for 2 entire hours.

And I had not eaten lunch.

These sorts of things make me cranky.

We finally made it through all the rigamaroo and we tried to leave the airport.

But, no.

That would not be an easy task.

This was when all the kind peoples stopped us to ask us if we were honeymooners.

Silly foreign peoples.

Don’t they understand that gringas get cranky when they have not eaten.

We get to our hotel.

It is grand and glorious.

I kid you not.

After a very confusing check-in procedure, they slap on our all-inclusive bracelets and send us on our way.

Food!

This means we can eat!

But, wait.

We must get stopped again.

And now, dear readers, I present to you:

Our Conversation with the 9th person to stop and ask us this very question on this hungry, hungry day:

“Hola, honeymooners!  Welcome!”

“No, no.  Not our honeymoon.”

“What!?  Why are you here?”

“Anniversary.”

“Bien!  Bien! Verde muchos los tortillas muy bienvenidos!”

Interruption:  I am simply making stuff up here.

Reminder:  Me no habla espanol and me no remember espanol

“Yes.  Our 10 year anniversary!”

“What!?  No, no no!  How old are you, sir?”

“29”

And, no.

He does not care how old I am.

“You look so young, Senor!  I am 31 and have one bambino.”

Interruption:  100 (meaningless) points to anyone who can tell me what the Spanish word for baby is.

I went with bambino.

You go with your gut.

“We have four bambinos!”

“What?  No!”

“Yes!”

“Tell me, Senors, are you going on any tours while in Cancun?

I would like to tour one of your fine restaurants, Senor Blabs-a-Lot.

“Um . . . maybe?”

“Well, if you book it with the hotel, you can receive 60%off the tour price!  Does that sound good?  No?”

“Yeah.  Sounds great!”

“Ok.  What time you want to come for meeting tomorrow?  8:30?  9:30?”

“Um . . . .”

“Just quick presentation for 90 minutes.  You just listen.  Then you get discount.  You have credit card?”

Danger, Lumberjack!  Danger!  I sense a scheme!

“Yes.”

“Visa?  Mastercard?”

“Um . . . Mastercard?”

“Muy bien!  Muy bien!  Ok.  You leave me deposit of five U.S. dollars and if you come back you can have them back.”

Hmmm . . . .I am thinking he is related to that King of Nigeria who is always emailing me.

“Alright.  Here you go.”

Yes. 

The Lumberjack handed him 5 $1 bills.

No.

I did not try to talk him out of it.

I was too hungry to care.

“Wonderful!  Bien!  Fajitas! Anaranjado!  And if you need anything else you come find me, no?”

“Ok, sounds good!”

Can we eat now?  Me no eat since 0400.

“My name is Waaaaaaaalllllllll-Do . . . ok?”

“Ok?”

“You know.   Like funny American cartoon man with stripey shirt?  Where am I?  Where did I go?”

“Waldo!  Right!  Ok, Waldo!  See you later!”

“Si!  Waldo!  Ok.  One more thing Senor.  Can I call you in the morning to remind you about your presentation?”

“Sure.”

“Wonderful!  Miercoles! Frijoles!  Adios!”

Now, folks.

It is the moment we have been waiting for.

Dinner.

Oh.

My.

Good.

Ness.

Do not put a starving girl in front of a delicious all you can eat buffet and tell her it is free.

And then don’t tell her there is also a menu she can order off of for free.

And please, please, have mercy upon her jeans and do not inform her that she can also order room service any time she would like.

For free.

It was a glorious meal.

And I ate.

A lot.

***

We go to the secret presentation meeting place where we are certain to be scammed.

No Waldo.

Where’s Waldo!?

Oh, I crack myself up.

A kind lady who seems up to par with Waldo’s shennanigans leads us to a secret waiting room.

Where we wait.

Then we have to follow a man named Carlos into the restaurant.

I like Carlos.

Carlos gets me.

Carlos:  Please.  Eat your breakfast.  I wait presentation for you.

Sounds good, Carlos.

Sounds good.

Carlos:  You like this place, no?

Us:  Yes!  It is very nice!

Carlos:  And you like hotel, no?

Us:  Lovely!

Carlos:  Tell me.  Just how important is travel to you.  And do not consider money.

Mayday!  Mayday!

Us:  Um . . . well, we like it.  It is hard to go.  It gets expensive-

Carlos:  No!  Don’t consider money!

Well, Carlos.

I do not appreciate your tone.

LJ (Lumberjack.  Keep up!):  It is very important.

Carlos:  That is what I thought.  Where do you want to go in this life?

Us:  Um . . . .

I want to go to the beach.

Carlos:  Europe?  Australia?  Hawaii?

LJ:  Maybe Alaska?

Carlos: Hmm . . . .but also Europe?

LJ:  Ok.

Carlos:  My job is to guarantee you 50 years worth of vacations.  Would you like to go on vacations for 50 years?

Us:  Um . . . .

Carlos:  It does not matter to me where you go.  Hawaii?  Italy?  It is your problem.  You want to go to Disneyland?  It is your problem.  Not mine.

Ha!  My problem!  He kept saying that!  Love it!

Next, Carlos leads us to a secret pyramid located in our hotel.

Only the extraordinary members of this special and elite club are eligible to stay in this pyramid.

He shows us rooms that have kitchens and living rooms and hot tubs in them.

They are divine.

They are exquisite.

They are expensive.

Carlos leads us back to a secret club meeting room full of other potential club members.

Carlos has been studying us this whole time.

And Carlos has come up with the perfect vacation plan package for us.

And guess what!?

It is only $78,000 US dollars!

Amazing!

But, wait!

It gets better!

We only need to come up with $38,000 right now and then we can make monthly payments of $1800 from now until eternity.

I can see why they are offering us this package.

Clearly, we are . . .

Upper Class.

But, wait!

There’s even more!

Everytime somebody else in that room joined this club, they would all cheer and pop open a bottle of champagne.

And this happened at least 3 times while we were in there.

Who are these people?

What do these people do?

Who can afford this stuff?

Where’s Waldo?

Sadly, we had to break it to Carlos, that no, we cannot afford his vacation plan.

Carlos was a nice guy.

We felt bad that he wasted his time on us.

We held our heads up high, walked past the gloating rich peoples sipping their champagne, and collected our 5 $1 bills.

And did we get our discount on the tour?

You better believe it.

We did not sit through 2 hours of humiliation for nothing.

We milked that presentation for all it was worth.

Then we slapped on some bathing suits and relaxed.

Then we ate.

Then we relaxed.

Then we ate.

Then we relaxed.

Then we ordered nachos by the pool.

Because they were free.

Then we relaxed.

Then we ate.

And then it was time to eat again.

And that, my friends, concludes the retelling of  Saturday and Sunday.

Remember . . . our trip lasted through the next Saturday.

Aren’t you glad I am dragging this out so much?

You’re welcome.

De Nada!

Bibliotecha!

Leche!

Fresa!