My Romantic Weekend (and other unsolved mysteries)

Remember the first time Kristina P. told me she hated me? It was after this post when I brought you all that serotonin surprise from last year's Valentines getaway to the luxurious Ihilani Resort Hotel in Kapolei.

I don't think this years getaway to Mosquito, Nevada will produce the same kind of verbal abuse.

It started off looking a little something like this:

That was day one of our (delayed) romantic weekend getaway.

Day two began in the wee hours of the morning with my hub filling up the car in his snowman pajamas.

Look, he thinks it's cute.

He thinks it's even cuter to sing Classy 95.9 love songs (out of tune) at the top of his lungs as we drive through Juab County at 1 a.m. Classy 95.9 is the only station in Utah where you can find Dinah Shore singing lyrics like vamoose to an accordion.

Nice try, sweetie pie.

Things got considerably better once we hit the Astroturf in Mosquito, Nevada. Something about that bright bold sun and that fake green grass made us feel positively playful.

Look ma, no shoes!

Even my hub got a little giddy

My daughter had arrived the previous day with her club soccer team.

On the way there she was approached by a total stranger at the Cafe Rio in St. George.

"It's Crash's daughter! It's Crash's daughter!" The stranger repeated several times, before asking my daughter to pose for a photograph.

Turns out it was April Ellerman, one of our best friends over her at the Diaries. But my daughter didn't know that. Alls my daughter knew was that WOW! She's famous!

The only thing more gratifying than going into a strange place and hearing a strange person say "Hey, you're the Crash Test Dummy!" is to have someone say "Hey, you're the Crash Test Dummy's daughter!"

Thanks April! My daughter finally respects me.

Anyways, can I just say how very nice it was to have a soccer flashback?

The whole thing felt kinda like the good ole' days in Hawaii (minus Jack Johnson).

Except the palm trees are implants. And they are way too well behaved.

What really made the weekend for me was that my IL's were there too.

And I'm not being sarcastic. Honest to Pete, they give me the giggles. Who needs books or movies when you've got in-laws? I laughed myself silly ALL. WEEKEND. LONG.

"No wonder you stay so skinny," my MIL told me, "you laugh so much!" And then she told me that laughing helps you lose weight.

"YOU help me lose weight," I told her.

It's hard NOT to lose weight around a woman who's hooked on JAG, hides her Harlequin Romances in the freezer and calls Oprah, Opree?

I wish you could meet her--the woman has absolutely no inhibition or guile whatsoever.

If Kellie Pickler watched Lawrence Welk every Saturday night, called Yoooohoooo instead of ringing the doorbell, and used words like trousers and picture show-house, she would be my MIL.

Imagine Kellie Pickler at age 76, on Valentines day, sharing with you and your hub and your daughter the story about the first time she heard how babies are made (wink wink).

She was in the ninth grade (WHAT THE WHAT?) and a girl from church started divulging details about her weekly encounters with different men. (ewww, her words, not mine.)

Imagine the awkward pauses and the awkward attempts to change the subject.

But then imagine Kellie Pickler declaring matter-of-factly, "she was just oversexed! After she got married she was perfectly fine and normal."

(WHAT THE WHAT?)

I lost a few pounds over that story.

But then I gained it back at the Virgin River Hotel and Casino Buffet.

One thing I don't get about my IL's is how they can spend two hours at a buffet and never bat an eye, unless you say "are you done yet?" at which point they get defensive and say, "NO! we still have half a glass of diet coke to drink."

But if I invite them to dinner and serve them half a bowl of soup they protest mightily.

"OH, we CAN'T eat THIS much!"

If I pour either one of them half a glass of milk they will say, "That's WAY too much, we'll share."

Every morning they share one banana, one orange and one hard boiled egg on one plate. If we go to Costco they share one hot dog, but if we go to Chuck-A-Rama they suddenly need 6 separate plates of their own?

I'm just going to add that to my list of unsolved mysteries.

So there you have it, my weekend in a nutshell (or two).

And how was yours?