Remember this list? We'd pretty much done it all except go see King Tut at the Pacific Science Center. (Spoiler alert: he wasn't actually there to chat with us.)
After the King Tut exhibit, Mark groused that we were gypped because there was no dead body. He said, "How much did you pay for that? Whatever it was, it was not worth it." Then he was offended that I wouldn't buy him something from the gift shop.
(Whatever you want from the gift shop, Mark? Not worth it.)
Mark got his money's worth (if he'd actually paid any money) in the rest of the Science Center. He loves that place. He can touch everything and figure out how stuff works and skip over things that don't entice him. He helped us solve the spatial puzzles because that's his thing.
|It was also helpful that Mark wore his acid green shirt so I could find him easily. The kid wanders off.|
We met Adam for dinner and over ginger chicken gyoza and soft pretzels and three different kinds of pizza (a celebration of variety if you ask me), I told him about our day and how each of our kids had their interests. I said, "I'm not sure what I was good at."
He said, "Getting them there."
Braeden and I looked at each other. If there's one area where I don't shine, it's driving in Seattle (or any other city you can name). The suburbs I can do. Maneuvering to and from and around enormous parking lots I have mastered. (I even know the best parking spot in the Costco parking lot. This has come from a lot of research in the field.) In big cities with one way streets at inconvenient intervals I get anxious about making wrong turns and then I make wrong turns in self fulfilling prophesies and then I get anxious about the wrong turns I made.
It's a lot of anxiousness, I tell you. (Also, my ability to take not all that great pictures with my phone should not be discounted.)
But here's what I know after spending a day with my children in Seattle.
I don't want school to start.