So they've come to visit immediately prior to Brexitageddon, and I will be sending them home - before British airspace closes - with enough Twinkies and Cheetos to see them through the food shortages. To be fair to Dad, he did live in London during World War II and ate several pet rabbits, so has more authority to talk of "plucky British spirit" than most.
Obviously my first priority was to fatten them up, which I've achieved through trips to revolving sushi restaurants, ice cream parlours, and pancake breakfasts. I also took them down to the Rodeo to kit them out with spurs and lassos, and a horse for when the petrol pumps dry up. Once we're freed from European law you'll be allowed to take a horse on an international flight as hand luggage, so all good.
This week is Spring Break for Pete, which means his mornings are now spent snuggling in bed with Grandma and Grandpa watching cartoons. I'm trying to drag them out to the various museums and galleries on offer but it's a losing battle so I've slipped into my usual domestic manservant role, living off the crumbs of affection passed to me if I'm noticed. I even cooked homemade pasta last night! How's that for dutiful?
And so, as Theresa May jets between Strasbourg and London mere hours before the biggest vote of her life, I'm left reflecting on my mother's advice whenever I had a vital piece of homework or revision for a crucial test: "Leave it all to the last minute, then hope. And if you fail, blame it on the major European powers." Words that have always served me well.
Start as we mean to go on with a pancake breakfast.
A visit to the Japanese garden.
It's been freezing here! Very un-Houston, but we're back up to 80F+ and 96% humidity again now.
Grandpa enjoys his coffee shops, as does Grandson.
Down at the Rodeo.
...with me, your Texan tour guide.
Dad passes on important knowledge.
Start of Spring Break activities down at the Children's Museum.
Naval architects never retire.
Bouncing!
Some kind of sticky ball game. Hannah won, of course.
Sushi by conveyor belt. Not to everyone's tastes, as we had to convince Grandpa that tempura fried shrimp is the same as scampi before he was happy.
First Petes on the moon.
A little nitro-ice cream, because we haven't had enough treats yet.
