Dateline: Sleepy Hollow.
Because we postponed our departure until after C. Peevie's first championship game, we didn't arrive in South Haven until after 7 p.m. After unpacking the car and visiting with the cousins, we all finally crashed sometime after 11 p.m.
And then began the first perfect day of vacation:
Sleeping in until 10 a.m. while Aunt Jenny flipped pancakes for the kids.
Playing on the playground: Pushing kids on the rickety merry-go-round that groaned loud, metallic groans when the weight was not evenly distributed. Dun-dunning the Indiana Jones theme music while kids hung on the sliding bar and swung themselves across the pit of snapping alligators waiting hungrily below. Scorching our bottoms on the sizzling hot metal slide.
Playing on the beach and exploring the tiny creek that empties into the lake. "Mom," M. Peevie exclaimed, looking out at Lake Michigan, "it looks like the ocean!" And she was not wrong--the lake stretched out infinitely, it seemed; and the waves valiantly imitated ocean waves, surging and crashing with enough force to make moms worry when little blonde heads dipped down for more than a second.
Swimming in the warm-but-not-too-warm pool for hours. Teaching M. Peevie to dive. Teaching A. Peevie to tread water.
Nap. Ahhhh, nap.
Grocery shopping. Because, you know, after all that playing, people got to eat.
Dinner with the whole family. Cooked by someone else. Cleaned up by someone else.
(Slight guilt trip over not helping to clean up the dinner dishes.)
More playing: Baseball on the lawn, complete with white rubber bases set 15 feet apart; Spongebob video games, and movie trivia.
Kids to bed by 10. Blogging time for me.
Could there be a more perfect vacation day? What's a perfect vacation day for you?