Road Trippin; part deux

After busting out my Atlas and determining a new route we were on our way. Pft, whats a few hours detour anyways right? No biggie. Delaware here we come! Only we couldn't, cause I wasn't gonna make it. I was getting tired and we were only a few days into our trip. Uh oh.


Enter the TrueFather. He gave me a call and said, "Come visit- I am in Ohio." He was there for work. Ya know, the business...  Or not, if you didn't read that post. Its cool.


So we stopped in Ohio and while we were there we ate at Buffalo Wild Wings. I love wings. I think it comes from living in the south. Probably, I was born into the wrong family because I like fried chicken and watermelon and fruity flavored sodas. I also hate the cold. Pretty much everything that comes from being a southerner and being brought up to appreciate the finer things in life; like brisket, baked beans, and chocolate sheet cake that has almost 4 whole sticks of butter in it. Ummmm, butter..... I digress.

So after a quick stop in Ohio it was on like Donkey Kong. We made it to my big bro's house in Delaware. He then followed Chubaca around the house for a good 20 minutes. I followed along too, but just because I am nosy and wanted to see what all the fuss was about. Turns out, he thought Chubaca was going to try and mark his territory in the house cause 


a) he has dogs  
b) Chuey is a boy 
c) and he apparently doesn't think I raised my dog right or something. 


Or really, it was that he didn't raise his dog right and then thought that dogs whizing on the carpet was normal. Either way I stopped the parade cause Chuey isn't like that; I raised him right, he has manners and can eat off a fork and everything.

I love my bro's kids. The little guy kills me what with learning to talk and all.  He and my littlest punk are the same age so basically you can't really understand what either one of them are saying. The following is a sample of one conversation where they both were saying they wanted to go to Wally World:


Bro's punk: I go Omart
My punk: No I go Walmar


Bro's: NO OmaRRRRRRt
Mine: NO Wwwaaallllmar


Bro's: NO OMAR!!!
Mine: NO! NO!NO!NO!NO!NO!NO!NO!NO!NON!NO!NON!ON!ONO!NN!N!ON!O!NON!ON!ON
WWWWAAAAAMMMMMMAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRR


Then Bro's punk knew that he'd been beat; so he laid that shiny fiddle on the ground by my punks feet. 


My punk said: "Boy just come on back if you ever want to try again"


I told you once, you son of a gun, I'm the best screecher that's ever been."


(And she played fire on the mount, run boys, run.
The devil's in the house of the risin' sun.
Chicken in the bread pin pickin' out dough.
"Granny, does your dog bite?"
"No, child, no." )    


Wait...

Right, so my bro and I and his wife took the 4 kids to the museum on the Air Force Base. It pretty much was a great time. I love those punks. It was here that I found the pin up girl of my dreams. If I ever get brave (or stupid) enough to get a tattoo I will get her. REAL BIG- um- somewhere. Like maybe on my back. Maybe covering my WHOLE back or something. That way there would be no question about us being soul mates; everyone would just know.  Here she is- isn't she lovely!