Aha! I knew the title of this post would get your attention. This one's for all of my mom friends out there.
In my last post, I poked a little fun at the tourist attraction called Wall Drug, SD. There was one thing, however, that I thought was pretty cool there: this dinosaur.
In my last post, I poked a little fun at the tourist attraction called Wall Drug, SD. There was one thing, however, that I thought was pretty cool there: this dinosaur.
Not only was this T Rex extremely "real" looking (or at least it looked a lot like what I remember the dinos in Jurassic Park looking like, which obviously is exactly what real dinosaurs looked like, right?), it also roared and attempted to "feed" every 12 minutes! Alarms went off, smoke came out, and it made a lot of loud, scary noises. It was great. Well, at least Pat and I thought so. Olivia, on the other hand, was absolutely terrified. She started screaming and crying and when Pat took her out of the room but I stayed in to videotape the whole ordeal, she kept screaming, "Mommy! Noooo! Get away from the dinosaur!" While I thought it was touching that she was worried for my safety, I started to feel bad after she continued to cry for the next 5 minutes straight. Every time Pat or I asked her during dinner if she wanted to go see the dinosaur again, she emphatically shook her head no and said "No see dinosaur again! No see dinosaur again!" But after a few more hours of feeling like a semi-horrible parent for scaring the bejeezus out of my kid, I started to wonder...will she now be afraid of all dinosaurs? Even on TV? Maybe even...wait for it...Barney? Because that would be FREAKING AWESOME!!!
I will let you know if this sort of behavioral conditioning works when it comes to everyone's favorite purple dino. Because if it does I'm pretty sure I am going to copyright this technique and make a million bucks off of it.
Other things of note that happened last night were the water running out during the middle of Pat's shower, then him cutting his hand open trying to fix the valve (no ER visit required, thank goodness), and our 12 year old waiter at dinner asking to see our IDs when we ordered beer with dinner and then saying, "Haha, just kidding!" as we reached for our wallets. Bastard.
And now, day 2 begins with 45 mph wind gusts. Off to Mt Rushmore!
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