In which we go to Orlando

Thanks to Nana Marian and Auntie Liz’s timeshare generosity, we spent the weekend in bucolic Orlando. Ok, so International Drive isn’t all that peaceful, but there’s actually a lot of empty space around the world capital of kiddie themeparkland. I had to remind Dick that St. Petersburg (Florida, not Russia) is superior because it has the beach. We were gone long enough to miss home and our stuff, but not too long that we spent too much on fast food (which we can’t afford dietetically-speaking either).

The girls loved the resort pool. Spot and I learned a new trick where we do a tandem back float with her shoulder tucked under my chin like a violin. We went to SeaWorld on Saturday and enjoyed the teacups (though without benefit of the Alice in Wonderland merchandising tie-in, they’re called "Swishy Fishies" or something nonsensical like that).

Further evidence of the dearth of character-driven fantasy is evident in our pictures with the Walrus:

Spot is big enough (at almost three months) to "sit" up in her stroller.

Susan had the most fun in the sandbox (so much for expensive rides and exhibits), although she still managed her grumpy face after the picture monster bugged her long enough. Eyebrows up, Susan.