Mountains Beyond Mountains: Mount Pocono, PA

We recently took a trip "to the mountains" for our cousin Kelly's wedding.  It was a quick trip, but we packed a lot in.  Our car trips usually entail as few stops as possible and max pedal to the metal, but mom somehow convinced a hesitant dad to stop at the famed Cracker Barrel for dinner.  Mommy has fond memories of stopping at the CB growing up (and she then of course goes on to remind us that she never flew anywhere when she was little; all four kids and the dog drove all over the country in an old school station wagon; she got the "way back" with Uncle Tim and the dog; and Grammie B used to attempt to limit her use of her red "My First Sony" walkman; and on and on).  Although the food was less fantastic than she remembered (and daddy refused to order the Chicken Fried Chicken), the Old Country Store didn't disappoint!  I got a sweet ambulance (and jacked some of the pegs from the dinner table Peg Game in the back of it) and Cami got some crazy pig.  It was a nice little stop, even if it meant that we didn't pull into the Comfort Inn until 10 p.m.

Mommy thought for a brief moment that they could just smuggle us on to the hotel, asleep from our carseats, and put us straight to bed.  But a hotel like the Comfort Inn only means one thing -- a past our bedtime dance party!!!  As mom shrieked at us to keep our socks on, we turned on that clock radio and partied hard.  Until at least 10:05 and then we passed right out.  But the next morning we were up bright and early (5:40 a.m.) -- ready to go to, wait for it, wait for it -- Camelbeach Waterpark!!!  Our 'rents probably should have known better than to take two sleep deprived toddlers to such a place, but when has that ever stopped them?  As usual, Cam was much more adventurous than I was and went down several water slides (including two by herself!).  I was a little scared by some of the bigger stuff, but Nona took me over to the "kids pool" where I danced it up to a clapping crowd.  Insert feigned surprise here.  I think it will be a few years before we venture back to a waterpark, but mom and dad have this indoor one on their list for a wintertime trip.  

After our afternoon nap, which both of us actually took, we got dressed in our finery and hit up the wedding reception.  OMG.  We were both totally obsessed with the band and literally danced for about 4 1/2 hours straight.  I'm not gonna lie, we broke it down.  And at one point I actually did break down as I biffed it onto the floor and had a gigantic nosebleed all over my white shirt.  But in true Green form, I rallied.  Our cousin looked beautiful (I did get in a dance with the bride toward the end of the night), I'm obsessed with one of the singers from the band (I have requested her at my "Green/Pirate Birthday Party") and we just generally had an awesome time.  

After another past-10 p.m. bedtime, we woke up to hit the road home and made great time.  Unfortunately, we walked in the house to a broken air conditioner (despite being broken, the thermostat still read an accurate 93 degrees inside the house).  Dad said, "Well the air conditioner is broken.  The ceiling fan also appears to be broken.  Oh, and I hear my cab out front.  I'm out."  And he took off for NOLA.  After waiting inside a sweltering house for almost 9 hours for the only HVAC company mom could find to come out on Sunday, and a call from said company saying they would be to the house in 15 minutes (at 9:30 p.m.), the power went out.  As soon as the fans in our rooms cut out, we really started wailing (we had already been crying on and off for some time, but mom was doing her best to ignore us).  So mom packed everything up in the dark and put us in the car to head to Aunt Carrie's.  And no sooner had she lifted the dog in the back, the power went back on.  We all schlepped back into the house, the repair man came, put in a new thermostat (which I keep telling mom I don't like), and we went to bed post-10 p.m. for the third night in a row.  Awesome.  It's OK, the trip was worth it.  Although we seem to be establishing a pattern -- we pretty much expect the house to blow up during our upcoming Chi-town trip.