Skip to main content

It’s the fourth day in a row that the clocks have gone back and it’s taking a toll on the kids. Even Teddy – who bounds out of bed most days – tells me to go away when I try to wake him. But I know the kids will holler at us if they’re late for kids’ club. And they are late. And they do holler. During the day, the kids’ club has these short windows of operation: 10am to 12pm, then 3pm to 5pm. I can admit this far into the cruise that those hours kind of suck. Celebrity at least had three-hour chunks of time (along with the many other ways their programming seems to be better). On a day like today, it’s almost not worth dropping them off as they’ll be in there for just about an hour. As a parent, that’s time enough to do exactly one thing. Read for a bit, sit down for a leisurely coffee, have a real quick nap – pick one of those things and watch the clock the entire time (naps are especially unrestful).
It’s getting colder as the boat heads further North. Sarah gets the hero award for taking Susannah and Veronica on the waterslide. Teddy, Nonna, and I do a round of minigolf. Veronica joins us for the second round, shivering in her wet bathing suit, and between putts she lies out on the nearest rock like a sea lion, catching whatever heat she can from the sun.

After lunch, we take the kids to see a pianist in the theatre. The performer’s name is Brooks Aehron, a British gent who I’d place somewhere in his sixties. He has high energy and lightening quick hands, and he plays Chopin and Bach and tells entertaining stories about the composers before each song. (Chopin could only grow hair on one side of his face – but it was the side facing his audience so he didn’t mind. Bach’s first job was writing arrangements for hymns at church – and he was selected by the hiring committee because their first choice wasn’t available.) The kids like the show enough, but they quickly tire of the between song banter. Susannah: “Why does he keeps saying stuff that KIDS DON’T UNDERSTAND?”

Off to dinner. We’ve booked our second specialty dining meal of the cruise, this one at Giovani’s Table. It turns out to be not that special an experience. Despite our reservation, we have to hang out for ten minutes until the table is ready, then service is sloooooooooow. If it’s not the slowest service I’ve ever experienced in a restaurant, it’s at least in the top two. And the food isn’t the best, at least for us. Sarah’s dad has osso bucco and her mom has a gorgonzola gnocchi, and they enjoy it. Sarah has a very mediocre filet mignon, and I have fettuccini carbonara with a sauce that is 99% egg yolk. I go from absolutely starving to painfully full in a single course. When it’s all done, our server apologizes for the wait and then – either because he feels bad or because he’s fishing for a tip – he pours a half bottle of wine into Sarah’s glass for free. We pick the kids up from Adventure Ocean, and because of the time change, they all do the curly shuffle in their beds for about an hour before falling asleep.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

I should add...

... that two people were instrumental in my joining Twitter. First, Isha . She sent out an article on it when the application was still brand new. (And I remember thinking, "Screw that noise. Like I need more online commitments.) Second was Rebecca . She joined up just a short while ago, claiming she hadn't met a bandwidth she didn't like . (And then she disappeared entirely from the internets .) It looked nice and pretty over there on her sidebar, and then I got a little jealous. The rest: history. And for those unobservant among you ( Jorge ), the Twitter feed is right there on my sidebar, replacing the old Radio 3 player that I loved, but that I think scared the bejezus out of a lot of people. Also, everyone should join Twitter. I'm needing some diversions , people.
Change Two: Drink More Water Such a simple thing, yet something I just can't seem to find the time to do. About the only water I drink in your average day is whatever sweat happens to trickle off my mustache. Hydration (so the smart people tell me) is a good thing. I'm less fatigued when I drink water. I'm less hungry when I drink water. I'm even less grumpy when I drink water. I promise you nothing especially impressive. Eight glass a day ain't gonna happen. I'm shooting for two on average; two trendy, metallic, not gonna bleed Bisphenol A into my system bottles of water. I know were off to a rip-roaring start, what with the list-making and the hydration, but I'll try to get crazier with future changes. Stuff like: go to work drunk more, and buy a pair of leather pants. For now, let me ease into it.