Okay, I’m an odd one, we all know that, right?

The ‘Miracle Snow in Brownsville‘ that I posted (guy selling a snowball on e-bay) was because it snowed there on Christmas. A couple days after Christmas we drove down there to stay with a friend. Here’s my trip report I promised (might want to grab some coffee).

“It takes me five and a half hours to make the trip.” She says. “I do it all the time.”

Anybody out there with small children? Raise your hand if your minivan has ever made a trip as fast as a single woman in a BMW. I’m just saying.

Anyway, we made it down there (in less than eight hours), ate some wonderful food, drank (too much) wonderful wine, caught up on things. The kids were great. At one point late the first evening I made a trip to the restroom (wine, ya know) and realized my fly had been open. The whole time. The last time I could actually remember operating my fly had been around three in the afternoon, at a gas station in Raymondville. And I just thought everyone was smiling at me because they were friendly.

Anyway, the next day we go to the Zoo! Who knew Brownsville even had a zoo? Not me. Just inside, we saw some of my relatives.

My son dangled our digital camera over a questionable pool of water to snap a picture of the pygmy hippos. They were a little too cute, as hippos go.

They had cool statues to play on. At least I think that’s why they were there. And some of the funnest water fountains you have ever seen (speaking of Hippos, which I was).

Also, the Cutest Baby Evar had a grand time, and even held still with her Power Ranger brother for a moment so we could take a picture.

As fun as it was, we eventually had to leave the zoo. We did other fun things, like get Popeye’s chicken and watch Indiana Jones with surround sound and my wife went to Mexico and actually bought stuff and they got their truck washed for only $2 (but the guy was short so he couldn’t clean the middle of the hood, sigh) and did not have an international incident.

Then that night and the next morning my little one (um, middle son, I really need nicknames here, don’t I?) had a fever, so what do we do? Go to the beach, of course! We were staying twenty minutes from South Padre. I don’t have pictures yet, except this one where we’re at this place that’s like a sandwich shop 11 months of the year and a wet t-shirt contest, beer swilling place during spring break. Or something like that. You can see we were all well rested and having a great time waiting for our burgers (which were actually pretty good) and looking forward to our seven hour drive home (did I mention that the minivan doesn’t travel as fast as a BMW? Or that my kids are ADD? Well, OK then)

Might I also add that it is downright cruel to post “Future Interstate 69” signs every five miles for three hundred fifty miles of our trip? Yeah, it’ll be an interstate when my kids are out of college. Also, the choice of numbering is unfortunate for a guy with a bunch of young sick children.

There are many more pictures, just not with me at the moment, so maybe I’ll do another post. We came home in time to see the Not-Dick-Clark New Years Show, and watch the ball drop, then the next day watch the Aggies suck badly and visit the ER, but I’ve already covered that.