It was quite a weekend in the barn. Our first full weekend together as a family for quite some time. So we decided to make the most of it.
Up first on Saturday morning was Robbi’s Tang Soo Do test. In case you do not know, Robbi has decided that merely dominating me with superior intellect and better looks is not enough. She also has to be able to dominate my physically with various kicks, punches, and blocks. Though she is currently a white belt, Saturday was her opportunity to prove that she is worthy of promotion to a yellow.
The kids and I watched as Robbi took her place on the mat. Notice that her fellow white belts are both somewhat younger.
The students listened as the instructor walked them through the testing protocol. In lockstep, they executed a series of moves, each one more complex than the last.
This move had a rather complex Korean name. My best translation is “kick with punishing authority.”
Part of the testing involved a sparring session. It was somewhat alarming to see someone trying to kick Robbi. Someone other than myself, I mean.
I needn’t have been concerned. As is the case at home, Robbi was more than capable of fending off unwanted overtures.
At a certain point in the testing, it became clear that Robbi was going to have to break a board. With her foot! Apparently, she had not known that this was going to happen, and had no time to prepare for it, mentally or otherwise.
The kids and I looked on as others broke their boards.
They were riveted, and somewhat worried.
Would their mother be able to best the piece of inch-thick white pine? Or would our family name be darkened by her failure?
When her turn came, Robbi lined up, summoned her fortitude, lifted her foot, and…
…CRACK…broke through the board as if it were a mere twig.
Energized by her triumph, Robbi bowed to the instructors.
Let’s just say, if I’ve given up all hope of winning future arguments with Robbi. Though, to be fair, I reached this conclusion years ago.
After we got home from Tang Soo Do, we decided to go for a run/bike ride. How this works is I push the baby in the jogging stroller with one hand while holding Iggy’s leash with the other. Alden, Robbi, and Kato all pile onto a single bike (Alden rides a little half-bike that trails behind), and we all go out together looking like an ad for the kind of people you’d like to ban from your community).
When we got back, the kids wanted to garden, so we took out the trowel and went out to the tiny strip of dirt between the sidewalk and the street.
I’m not sure if you know, but Kato is a staunch believer in “gardening with attitude.”
Where Alden hails from the school of “gardening with good cheer.”
It creates a certain tension when they work together, Kato sitting around scowling while Alden compliments the plants.
And lovingly places them in the ground.
Eventually, inevitably, Kato gets swept up in the sheer joy of gardening and finds some smiles of his own.
Baby August, who can’t be trusted not to eat the plants, watches from the peanut gallery, where his contributions consist of incoherent commentary.
Just as we were about to go inside to make dinner, Doug the Baker showed up with a tray of cold pizza. Evergrain has started making amazing, delicious, belief-defying pizza every Friday night. Which is to say, our bank account and waistline are both about to move in opposite directions. But we’ll be happy indeed as we slip into decline.
Did I mention that when the pizza was done, Doug went back inside and brought out a bin of Sun Buns?
And that we were allowed to eat as many as we wanted?
Eventually we all fell into a profound sugar coma. When we awoke, it was morning. And so we headed to Washington, D.C. to visit the National Zoo. Apparently, a lot of other people had the same idea, because when we got to the zoo, there was no parking to be had anywhere. We eventually found a spot in a neighborhood about a half a mile away. And so we marched.
And marched.
But eventually we got there. Of course, the first thing we did was line up for the obligatory photo by the ZOO sign. Two of the three children were willing to cooperate.
Swift surgical removal of the offending child led to a slightly less populated but significantly more cheerful photo.
Our dear friend Bren came to join us at the zoo. Just as she got there, we were having an impromptu picnic of juice boxes and rice crackers. I asked Bren if she wanted a juice box. She said yes. It was not until I had taken Bren’s straw out of its plastic and inserted it into the juice box that I remembered that Bren, being a fully capable woman in her 30s, did not need my assistance to ready her juice box for drinking. She is not, in fact, one of my children. It is sometimes difficult making swift adjustments between the large people and small people in my life.
Bellies full of juice and crackers, we set off to enjoy the zoo.
The day was perfect. Mid-60s and sunny. We headed to the fishing cat enclosure. The signage was clear.
And yet so many of the onlookers were illiterate.
We visited the (relatively) new elephant enclosure. If I were an elephant, I’d want to live in the National Zoo. Lots of space to roam, a nice pool for frolicking in, and an enormous tire hanging from a rope to bat about, pinata-style.
Baby August? Not impressed.
Of course, the highlight of the zoo had nothing to do with the animal kingdom.
But, let’s be real here: is there anything better than a train?
Even if it’s not on a track and only goes around and around in relatively small circles?
Nope. Nothing better. Nothing at all.
Though alligators are pretty cool, too.
And this thing.
And enormous turtles that live in the water.
And truly gigantic turtles that live on the land.
By the time we left the zoo, Baby August was sawing logs and Kato’s frown was upside down.
It was a great weekend. Robbi broke a board with her foot, I ate a heap of sun buns, and the kids got to ride on a train to nowhere.
Not bad for 48 hours.