Saturday was the Harvest Festival at the girls' school. Of course it was also the wedding reception of Valerie's former teacher. We were honored to be invited. But then I got it in my head to take the kids to San Francisco to visit Michael for the night.
So, up we got cracking on Saturday morning. (I took the liberty of canceling soccer games since we were already overbooked). We packed up all our gear, including our own soup bowls, spoons and napkins. The Harvest Festival is a "green" event. It was pretty cool to sample all these homemade soups (I helped make the bean and bacon one!) in our own bowls and shop the homemade crafts. There were games for the kids, live music, food, nature crafts, more henna tattoos and a wonderful ambiance. I love that school.
Of course, we could only stay a couple of hours because we had to show our faces at the wedding reception. I was a little sorry we couldn't stay longer. However, with the kids, it's always good to leave on a high note! So, we popped in and wished everyone well and congratulations. The kids loaded up on juicy drinks (just to ensure that I would have to pull over several times during our would-be three hour drive).
Flash forward to making the hillbilly entrance at the Mark Hopkins Hotel in San Francisco. Michael had a room overlooking California Street, so he could see us pull in and unload pillows, sleeping bags, trash from the trip and forget to tip the valet. (I went back later and tipped!) You know, some day my kids are going to stay at a Motel 6 and not know what to make of it.
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We took the kids out for sushi for dinner. We thought this would give Valerie a chance to practice her Japanese. You know, we thought she'd throw out a, "こんにちは " or something. Or at least a, "ありがとう". I think she needs to learn how to say "tempura ice cream" if she wants to eat it. Maybe that will be some incentive.
Anyhow, Michael was working. So, he spent the evening with us and had to take off early Sunday morning. My plan was to take the kids out for croissants and hot chocolate and then to Chinatown and perhaps the park. After a sugar load at the Illy Cafe at the bottom of the Fairmont Hotel we scooted down the hill to Chinatown. Of course it looked nothing like this on Sunday morning. It was more of a ghost town.
So, we went to a little park in Chinatown. The kids were playing together so nicely and I found a patch of sun in the fog from where I could watch the old guys doing Tai Chi. Suddenly Amira runs up to me, "Mommy! I gotta go to the bathroom!!!! It's an emergency. And it's not #1!!!"
This was a disaster. San Francisco is not known for being a public restroom friendly town. But it is even less so when everything is shuttered up on a Sunday morning. I grabbed Amira's hand and asked her to hold it as best she could as we bounded up the hill as fast as we could. Rex and Valerie trudged behind us complaining that we needed to wait up.
We ran up hill for about 2 blocks and came to the lovely Ritz Carlton.
I dragged Amira through their lush lobby and past the fancy pants porter into the extremely lush women's room. I stuffed Amira into her own private stall and went over to check out the sink and the individual cloth hand towels. Ooooo la laaaa!
Well, flash forward a few minutes and I'm pulling the kids out of the Ritz and back up to the Mark Hopkins (which is seriously at the TOP of the gigantic hill). Valerie begins to complain that we are not going back down to the park when she notices something, "Mommy, why are my underwear in your purse?"
Before I could respond Amira proudly states, "BECAUSE I POOPED IN THEM, VALERIE!"
Moral of that story, if there is one, would be: If you are going to have an accident, have it in someone else's undies. Oh, also, if you've gotta go, you should check out the Ritz. Nice potties.
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