Before
our visit Kimmy asked what we wanted to do while we were in LA, and the only
thing other than Disneyland that I could think of was taking Claire to the beach.  I hoped to get her
feet wet and take pictures of her smiling in the crashing waves, but the beach
isn’t very warm in March.  We drove to Santa Monica Pier and dragged the
baby down the beach while she giggled as the wet wind blew around her.  Donna
stood her near the surf and I clicked a photo but wanted another without anyone
else in it.  I begged Donna to sit Claire in the sand and she
eventually acquiesced.  As soon as she let go, Kimmy and Esther screamed
“Wave! Wave! Wave!”
Donna swooped Claire up, just as the ensuing wave crashed
against her shoes and jeans.  A relatively irked Donna carried Claire into
the warm, windless safety of Bubba Gump Shrimp for dinner.

Now
don’t get me wrong, amusement park games are fun,
especially when you have a
small child or a

date to impress, so we played this dart game on the pier where
you throw darts at balloons. If you break the balloon you get a prize.  Of
course they never tell you that you need to hit like a bazillion balloons to
get something more than an ugly trinket that smells.  So eventually Donna
and I won Claire a purple elephant, and after we took some pictures of her with
it, and walked away, Donna mentioned how expensive purple elephants are.  I
gave her a quizzical look before realizing that we spent $14.00 on a stuffed
elephant that will sit on the shelf with the scads of other stuffed animals she
has in her room at home.  Oh well.

Gasoline
for trip = $60; Disneyland adventure = $85; museum parking = $7; Pink Elephant = $14; the look on Donna’s
face as she rescued Claire from Poseidon’s clutches = Priceless.

Main StreetWe took the elevator down from Daisy
2 Parking Garage and across the tram to the entrance. Kimmy waved his ID badge and we began to walk
up Main Streetin The Happiest Place on Earth. After a
few hours and a nice lunch, it began to rain. Esther moved closer to Kimmy, under the umbrella, and I sat eating pot
pie in the rain before pulling my lightweight raincoat (which I chose to bring)
up around my ears.

Donna, sans raincoat, pulled the
stroller top over Claire who was wearing her Hannah Anderson outfit from Aunt
Susan and a pink fleece hat. Even though the stroller seat was reclined, Claire
kept pulling herself forward to play in the rain. We eventually had to give up
on the drenched stroller all together and after purchasing her a t-shirt with
Minnie on it, we turned the plastic bag upside down, tore holes in the bottom
and both sides, then slipped it over her head. Her makeshift raincoat reminded me of Natalie Portman in Garden
State.

In order to experience one exhibit,
the attendant told us to park the stroller outside the front entrance; Donna
flipped out about leaving the Mercedes of strollers (well at least the Volvo of
strollers) out where anyone could roll it away. With a sweeping hand I showed
her the other thousand strollers lined up outside rides all over the park, but
she still wasn¹t happy about it. After the ride, everything was exactly as she
left it and the strap of the heavy diaper bag I carried through the exhibit
only left a semi-permanent indentation on my right shoulder.

Even with free tickets to the park,
there gets to be a point where you just cash it in and head to the warm, dry
car. Of course, about the time we made it there is when the rain dissipated.

That evening Kimmy taught us a card
game called Continental, which we loved immediately. Donna and I are game
freaks as you can tell from here. The game changes each round and there are
eight total rounds. Esther and he play
this game in Madrid with her father when they visit, and they lose to him even
worse than they lost to me that evening.

The Czech Republic has red and white tanks, which probably explains why they’re not a world super power.  This tank and others lined the fenced-in yard outside of the Patton Museum in the middle of the desert near where we stopped for breakfast.  After two cups of sludge coffee, I drove the last leg of the trip to Glendale, CA.

The highways of California make PA’s feel like driving on glass.  About 45 minutes from Kim’s apartment, we thought we had blown a tire.  The truck was jumping all over the road and bouncing like an earthquake had hit under the chassis.  After pulling over and checking the tires while semi’s whipped around me at 80-90 miles an hour, we discovered that it was just the road and we should proceed with jackrabbit caution.

We’ve not seen Esther in four years and that was nice.  We drove to Disney for a tour of where Kimmy works in Circle 7; we viewed ping pong tables, free arcades, free Coke machines and tons of cubicles linked together and decorated with whatever element of creativity the possessor deemed fit from Death Star pez dispensers to photos of children to lamps adding ambience lighting as if the worker were sitting on his own couch.

That evening we sat around their granite dinner table and Claire, from between our legs, looked up and shouted “BOB!” in the perfect little baby voice with a hint of Chicago accent.  Now I don’t know anyone named Bob and I only know one person from Chicago.  So now every time Donna asks Claire who I am, she looks at me and says “Bob!”  I am still trying to figure out who this Bob character is and tomorrow I am interrogating the mailman.