Sunday: Scenic Routes, $5 Ice Cream, and Recreating Photos?

 

We started Sunday by… getting lost on our way to church. I helpfully pointed out, “Ya’ll, if you went to church more often, you’d know the way.” My humor was not appreciated. (Tough crowd before 10 a.m., I guess.)

  Thanks to Rob—not the GPS—we eventually made it. Afterward, we told everyone we were heading to Sizzler. Easy plan, right? Wrong. Somewhere between church and lunch, Judy’s phone (or Google) rerouted us. Suddenly the new destination: Bravo Farms. (Thanks to Rob's Text.) Excuse me, what? What about the friends who think we’re at Sizzler?? I wisely kept my mouth shut. I’m just the tagalong—I go where I’m dragged.

  Bravo Farms was… interesting. The boys used to come here when they were little and wanted to recreate old photos. While they were off chasing nostalgia, I was busy chasing food. Priorities. By the time Betty, Judy, and I finished eating, my crew was outside climbing the treehouse. Naturally, I followed, because apparently my “vacation insurance” doesn’t cover common sense.

  That ladder was narrow, and my hips were just barely within regulations. I got to the top, looked around, and immediately asked myself: Why? There was no magical view, no life-changing epiphany—just the looming possibility of breaking my hip and one screaming kid just to hear himself scream. I carefully climbed back down, vowing not to become “Mema in the hospital” on this trip.

  Thankfully, there was ice cream. $5 a scoop, but hey—it’s vacation. Unlimited budget (sort of), and calories don’t count. Honestly, one scoop here was equal to three anywhere else. And since we were in dairy country, it was chef’s kiss delicious.

  Afterward, Betty and Judy ditched their church dresses, I had pulled a wardrobe change in the church parking lot. Don’t ask how, it's a secret.

  Back at the house, I asked to see the recreated photos. Answer? “Oh, we forgot.” Seriously?!

 

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