are floaties allowed?

Saturday, July 27, 2013

Vacations are all about food.  I mean family.  Family.  Vacations are all about family.

I just got back from vacation.  Which was all about family.  

Stone Harbor, NJ.  Doesn't get any better.

One night after dinner (with family) I was in the mood for something sweet. Well there's a surprise.  But not ice cream.   Definitely not ice cream.  No reason, just not in the mood.  Absolutely nothing to do with the two scoop oreo sugar cone with jimmies from Springers I had after lunch.  

Let's try out that new bakery across from League Shore.  After we go into League Shore. (Sidebar:  I'm obsessed with  League Shore. I can't help it. It's just a little clothing store conveniently located right next to Springers.  I limit my trips to League Shore.  I can only go when I happen to go to Springers.  So like, twice.  A day.   Anyway, I think League Shore has invented some kind of new fabric for their clothes. Some kind of cotton mixed with heaven.  They have the softest, cutest, comfiest clothes ever.  Like, you put on one of their tee shirts and a pair of their shorts  and you can't stop touching the fabric.  You just can't believe how soft it is.  For me, this is perfect timing.  Vacation = tee shirts and shorts.  Sale rack.  1/2 price.  Obvi.  So I'm feeling soft and comfy 24 / 7.  But.... I am starting to get some funny looks.  Better keep the whole feeling my clothes thing under wraps.  But watch out when it gets a little colder and the sweatshirt and sweatpants come out. And all bets are off when I splurge on that blanket.  I will want to be wrapped in my heaven blanket all of the time. I will never want to get out of bed. I will never want to leave my heaven blanket bed and get dressed.   Hmmm... What can I do?  What can I do?  I will have to go to work.  I mean, I can't very well call my serious, important doctor boss and tell him that sorry,  I am wrapped in my heaven blanket and cannot possibly drag myself out of bed and into the hospital today just to take care of sick children. What can I do?  Wait,  I know.  I know what I can do.  I can set a new fashion trend at work.  Yes, that's it!   It will be called the blanket look.  It will catch on.  It will be awesome.   People everywhere will be wearing nothing but blankets (with underwear, of course. Semper ubi sub ubi).   I will be famous. I will be in People magazine.  They will have me as a guest judge on Project Runway. OMG.  I have to start saving my pennies.  I have to get that heaven blanket.  My future, not to mention the entire fashion world's future, depends on it!! ).   

Where was I?  Vacation.  Food.  Family.  Oh, yes, the new bakery, Maryanne's.    We walk in.  We are the only customers.  That's ok.  It's so pretty in the bakery.  And all those baked goods.  Pretty, pretty baked goods.  So many baked goods.  Everything looks so good.  And smells so good.  One of the girls behind the counter comes over to help.  "What would you like?"  Oh dear.  What would I like? What would I like?  So many choices.  Maybe that pie.  That pie looks amazing.  "What kind of pie?"  I hope for peach.  "Apple" she says.  Hmm.....really wanted a peach pie and I know if I whine enough my sister will make one sometime this week.   Every year she says she isn't going to make one and every year she does make one. (And I am not too proud to admit I eat half the pie.  Because vacation is about family.  And I love my sister.  And so I just need to show her that I love her.  By eating the pie she makes).  So I move on from the pie.  Cookies, brownies,  eclairs....  My sister calls me over to another display case.  "Petra, what about these?"  "What are they?" I say.  "They are little shot glass desserts."  Huh?  "You know, desserts in little glasses."  I don't understand so the girl behind the counter pulls the tray out of the case to show me.  She puts the tray of little glass desserts on the counter.  The girl is so cute and helpful.  She patiently points to each glass and explains its contents.  You see, each little glass has about four or five layers of yuminess.  She goes through each layer.  There are a lot of little dessert shot glasses.  Like, a real lot.  A full tray of teeny tiny little dessert shot glasses.  She doesn't have to explain each one as there are repeats but still, it was a lot of work.   

A few shot glass desserts will be good, but I still want something else.  They are shot glasses after all.     Richie had 72 shot glasses on Happy Days for pete's sake.  Teeny weeny.   And we are on vacation. Which is about family.  So I really have a downright obligation to provide enough dessert for my family.

 I head back over to the other counter to pick out something else.  

I hear it before I see it.  A slight tinkling sound that quickly grows into a louder tinkling slash horrible omg-I-can't-believe-what-I-am-hearing sound.  I turn my head just in time to see a hundred teeny tiny shot glasses, each filled with five layers of yummy dessert and topped with whipped cream, fly up into the air, the tray that held them two seconds earlier bouncing off the display case door.   Chocolate and lemon tart and banana cream and cherry something leap up out of the shot glasses and shoot out in every direction.  All those shot glasses fly up in the air,  seem to stop for a split second then, as if in very slow motion, come crashing down to the ground.  All of them.  All of the teeny tiny glasses.  All five layers in each teeny tiny shot glass.  And all the whipped cream.  The whipped cream goes everywhere. I mean everywhere.   I have never seen so much whipped cream in so many places it really shouldn't be.  

After the crash there is complete and utter silence.  Nobody moves.  Nobody says anything.  We all just stand there, frozen,  eyes bugging out, jaws dropped open. 

I can't help it.  I just can't.  I try so hard not to.  But there is no controlling it.

I burst out laughing.  I laugh and laugh and laugh til tears are streaming down my face.  And before you know it, everyone is laughing,  We are all just standing there, clutching our sides, laughing.  Even poor 
Alex ( because sharing dessert catastrophes automatically put you on a first name basis) starts laughing. Although, to be honest, hers is a bit nervous and possibly on the touch hysterical side. 

We stay long enough to make sure Alex is ok, write a note to her manager pleading leniency for her, make another dessert choice (we tell Alex to just grab the closest, easiest thing...a chocolate cake which was amaaaazing by the way) and stuff the tip jar.  

I tell Alex this is the highlight of my vacation so far.  

 And that, dear 20 followers and 2 lurkers, is life.  Accidents happen.  They just do. 

 Dessert shot glasses fall.  You hit "reply all"  instead of "reply."   You add cumin instead of curry to the shrimp curry.  Your shorts fall down when you are riding your bike.

Accidents happen.   How you react to them is up to you.