Lost in Translation

Our family took an out of the way detour up to the outlets yesterday. Fernando and I decided to divide and conquer to hit more stores in less time. Our meeting place would be at the Children's Place clothing store. Fernando proved to be the better shopper of the two since he actually had items to show for the time spent in the stores. He kindly bought two little basketballs for Mia and Tiago. These would help solve the inevitable fight we have during family basketball times as to who gets the ball. Mind you we own two and there is always another one at the church, but why not all choose the same ball.

Mia and Tiago were each given the responsibility to carry their own basketball to the car. Mia seemed a little anxious about this. Finally she asked me, "Did Daddy buy this for me?" in which I responded "Yes, Daddy bought it for you". Strangely, she kept asking that question over and over again. Both of us persisted in the same exchange of the original conversation. Finally Mia yells "Did Daddy pay for the basketball or did he just take it from the store?" I hadn't realized that she didn't connect buy and bought as the same word just a different form of the word. The experience brought mixed emotions. First how frustrating, but funny miscommunication can be. Second, the proud feelings of a parent that she would be concerned about accepting a shoplifted item. And finally, the intrigue one has after realizing their child thought they might actually do something that wrong.

Never Meant to Be

We have lived in the DC metro area for five years now. There are so many historical events that it is almost impossible to attend all of them. I understand that due to family situations (ie kids under the age of 5) or schedule conflicts (ie events on Sunday or a rotation out of town) we just can't be at even the most desired events.
Most often, I cope rather well. Unfortunately, I can not be so positive about the most recent missed event. On Monday, there was the last White House Easter Egg roll that our family could have attended. Fernando would have even had the chance to come with us. We missed the first year because we didn't understand the scale to which one must commit to in order to get the coveted tickets. It starts the Friday before with a mass camp out in front of the White House to get a wristband. Then if you get a lucky wristband, you wait the Saturday morning in a long line to get your chance at up to 5 tickets (which surely everyone takes the full allotment even when they might not need that many). This ticket gets you in at a certain time on Monday. The next year, friends of mine willingly braved the cold to ascertain tickets to share with Mia and I. We discovered to our horror that the effort was in vain. The torrential down pour cut our group out just shy of making it onto the lawn. So drenched and disappointed and slightly hypothermic, we took the metro back home. Here is a before picture of Mia on the metro. I wrote in an email to my family about the picture "It was taken while we were riding on the metro to D.C. in order to be a part of the White House Easter Egg roll. I won't include the "after" photo. It is far too sad to see her soaking wet and with blue lips." Next two years we were out of town.
This year was going to be our year. Yes, I know that I am near birthing a child, but nothing was going to stop me. Fernando made himself a willing camp out canidate and made the trek to DC ready to play the night away in line with a myriad of computer games and may be throw in a little studying. Upon arriving to the Ellipse, he was shocked. In front of him lay hundreds of tents full of people wrapping and zig zagging around as far as the eye could see. Still determined to secure those coveted tickets, he made his way to the end of the line. A "helpful" park ranger told him of his chances: that unless he was here at about 4 pm earlier in the day, go home. Which he did upon my request. People had been camping out since 3 am Friday morning. Losers! Ok I am bitter. I just wanted to take my turn on the lawn since the tour of the White House is lame. I have come up with several options to make obtaining tickets for the event more family friendly but sadly, there are many more who are willing to sit in line for over 24 hours. I guess I didn't want it bad enough.


(Hall of Fame football player Troy Aikman reads "One Fish, 2 Fish, Red Fish, Blue Fish" for children at the reading nook at the 2008 White House Easter Egg Roll, Monday, March 24, 2008. MINUS THE TOVAR FAMILY)