Spring Break continued, which meant no school and therefore 1000% more Pete in his Grandparents' life. A happy occurrence, but a tiring one. I did my best to keep both ancestors and descendants happy with more trips to museums and coffee shops, and we finished with a long weekend in Galveston, our local seaside town of much renown.
My parents came at this time of year because they wanted to avoid the Houston heat, and they managed to do that remarkably well, with the weather resembling Britain rather than Texas. Then, as things began to warm up at the end of their stay, a huge oil fire blotted out the sun. But it's OK, because it's not Chevron's (sighs Hannah) and it didn't delay the flight (sighs Dad).
So that's it! What am I meant to do now? Go back to whatever it was I was doing with my life, I suppose. I know childcare was involved but I'm a little lost beyond that. I implored my parents to stay until after Brexi-pocalypse on 29th but they heeded me not. If I start rowing now perhaps I'll be off the coast in time to evacuate them quick...
Brits together! In front of a Damien Hirst at the Museum of Fine Art.
Something even more abstract.
"So Grandma, if you need to grow your own food for any reason in the near future, this is what you do..."
What does chaos look like? A Spring Break balloon show at the local library.
Making a connection on the electrical music bench at the Kids' Museum.
Another Texas tradition: Whataburger.
A picture of Victorian criminality, at the Naval Museum in Galveston.
Do you have to ask?
The Admiral is aboard!
Port and starboard.
Mum orders a large one "just to take the edge off" at the Rainforest Cafe.
