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Today, we went to one of my favorite places on earth (because I have been to so many.) We drove the 95 miles to St. Augustine with the boys. It is the 450 year anniversary and Memorial Day weekend, so there were more people in town than usual.

Before we had kids, and both Greg and I worked, we would take a long weekend a couple of times a year, stay in a B and B, park our car for three days, and see the historic district on foot, or take the trams. Naturally we stumbled upon some places that we have made our regular haunts, when we go up there. Yes, it’s very touristy, but the old buildings, fort, Flagler College, and a whole host of other things make it such fun! Lots of bars, restaurants, ghost tours, old homesteads that have been made into museums, create for no end of things to do. Plus they have the Fountain of Youth, but I won’t drink the water, because it tastes like shit—literally—like the water just passed gas in your mouth—sulfer-y, so I guess it sort of did.

So, we took our kids up for the day. We have done it one other time, and it was challenging, but with the boys a little bigger, we thought it would be more fun for all of us. Yeah…there is no question about it—they ruin our favorite place for us. Oh, the things we couldn’t do because they had little patience, and we had to do everything at a faster clip than we prefer.

We stopped for lunch at the Conch House on our way into town. It has cool outdoor ambience that we thought the kids would find fun, but the service, although pleasant, was mediocre at best, and the food was disappointing. That, and we had a five-year-old that pretty much verbalized every fleeting thought that ran through his head. We couldn’t ignore him, because he wouldn’t allow us.

While we were waiting for our food, and feigning interest in the myriad of statements and questions that were vomiting forth, I saw a man from behind that had an uncanny resemblance to my brother. Since Kevin lives in Georgia, it was possible that he might shoot down to St. Augustine for the long weekend. I was so convinced that it was him, that I actually got up to walk close to him so I could see his face better (While Greg is telling me “Jennifer, wait, no—it’s not him—sto….). I guess I wasn’t very slick, because he turned around and looked at me as I acted like I was trying to see past him to one of the hostesses. It wasn’t my brother.

After the fact, I thought of several clues I could acknowledged, so as to avoid making an ass out of myself. Like the fact this guy had a scar on his back, and my brother doesn’t. He does, however, have a tat on his shoulder of a panther that he has had for 30 years. This guy didn’t. The last clue that tried desperately to warn me, but I held it’s head under the surface of my conscious, where it drowned. The guy had a lot of hair on his back and chest. Kevin didn’t, last time I saw him sans shirt, but what do I know, maybe men grow crazy amounts of body hair after the age of 50.

We did go over to the Fort so that we could sit on the sea wall and the boys could play with a ball and a Frisbee in the grass. That was fun! It was easily 90 degrees, but there was a wonderful breeze that took the edge off. Then Pierce walked over to me with something that I thought was a leaf in his hand, it disappeared and he started to scream. I guess it was a mud wasp or something, because he got stung on his thumb. Poor kid, he can’t win for losin’—he just recovered from an awful case of hives, and now this! The good thing is that we learned he is not allergic to stings, in fact it’s been a few hours, and it’s almost hard to find any evidence of it.

I brought the camera and took tons of photos of cool buildings, landscapes, and my children (of course) and on the way home, I realized that the last several times that I uploaded the photos from the camera to my computer, it didn’t “cut” them off the memory card, so I had about a thousand pictures and only about 150 were from today. I was trying to figure out how they were stored, and it seemed like they were stored by date in several folders, so I decided to delete the ones that I had already uploaded to my computer. I think we all know where this is going—I deleted what I thought was one folder, and it was—the one and only folder! Goodbye memories of St. Augustine…goodbye…and since we are NEVER taking the kids there again, because they stink as vacation buddies, we will never be able to recapture the moment. I’m trying not to think about it too much (erasing the photos, not our little day trip—it wasn’t that bad.)

 Disclaimer: Any photos of St. Augustine posted here are from previous trips.