And They Don’t Know the Difference

It was a last-minute decision to go.

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Saoirse had off school the Friday before Labor Day, and I’d asked Dave if he could maybe take off work.

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We didn’t take a vacation this year–didn’t even schedule a “staycation”–because we were so hoping we could swing a real one.

9.14. Aquarium Visit. aquarium 3 I knew we wanted to do something together, just us, that day–one last hurrah, sort of, a redemptive hurrah, of sorts, to say, “okay, at least we did our best.”

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When you buy a new house the same summer your only brother gets married half a country away, “did our best” is the best you can do.

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And that’s okay.

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We ended up going to the National Aquarium, in Baltimore. Just for the day. Just us.

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Jellyfish. Sharks. Fish striped like one of the throw pillows I used to keep on the couch. The kids were mesmerized. I kind of missed that pillow.

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Saoirse could have watched the dolphins the entire weekend, if we’d have risked the whole getting-arrested-for-trespassing part.

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We did not buy souvenirs. We did buy ice cream.

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They were so tired by the end of the day.

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That’s usually the sign of a good one.

 

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