Wednesday, October 21, 2009

What Happens In Cherokee, Stays In Cherokee.

Last weekend we visited the NC mountains (Cherokee and Bryson City) and had a nice little mini-vacation with the kidlets and our good friend Matt. Things were mostly under control, but as usual there were some blips and humorous moments that cropped up....

Oconaluftee Village (Cherokee, NC) - The blow gun making station
[Upon spying a Cherokee Indian with a partially shaved head, ponytail in back]:

A - "Oooh, I like his hat!"
Me - "That's not a hat, that's his hair."

*Snickers are heard from both the people milling around nearby and the two Cherokee gentlemen working on their blow guns. Luckily the man sporting the 'hat' had a sense of humor and readily agreed to help out when A's Dad suggested that she might like to have a similar 'hat'. LOL!

After our lovely morning touring Oconaluftee and walking the trails, my 3 year-old starts looking decidedly worse for wear. Normally skipping a nap is no big deal, but it looks as if the trails might have done her in. We were due to get on a train in 1.5 hours, though... no time for a siesta.

Being the good parent that I am, I decide that all E needs is a good old-fashioned dose of caffeine, and she'll be good to go!

Back at the hotel:
P - "Here Ella, drink some of this." [hands 3 year-old a 20oz Mtn. Dew]
E - "OK!" [said a touch TOO gleefully]
E - "Gulp. GULP. GULP."

We barely had time to get back to the hotel room before realizing that the entire Mountain Dew is GONE. GONE. I got 3 sips from the bottle.

Well, OK. You might be thinking "Isn't that what you wanted? Surely she was wide awake then!"

Um, no. Not so much.

Less than five minutes after downing the entire bottle of soda, said three year-old looks at me with a wide-eyed, frightened look on her face. That's right, she peed every last drop of that soda right out... on the hotel carpet. It was all over her pants, shirt, and her shoes were SOAKED.

E is now the proud owner of a lovely pair of black suede Minnetonka Moccasins, the only shoes we could manage to procure for her on the reservation after her sneakers (the only shoes we had with us) received their unscheduled 'shower'.

(Annnnd... I just realized that the bolded initials in that last conversation spell PEE. How very fitting. *snicker* Yeah, yeah... I'm 12.)

If there's one lesson we can all learn from Ella, it's this: Don't walk barefoot on hotel carpet. Ever.