Before I move onto the (almost) wordless part, I'll use a few to tell you about our impromptu excursion to OMSI. Sound fun? It was!
We met up with the hub's sister and our nieces for some play time and then dinner at Deschutes Brewery in downtown Portland (where, of course, I was very original and got their DELICIOUS Sweet and Spicy Mac and Cheese w/ a salad topped with their equally yummy balsamic vinaigrette!). Which leads me into the story of the day...
After the museum fun, we headed across the river and were deciding where to park for said restaurant, and considering it was raining, busy, and we didn't feel like duking it out for a parallel parking spot on the street that you had to pay for anyway, we decided to pay the $5 to park in the very convenient, close, and dry garage across the street.
Fine idea, right? Wrong.
We waited on a semi-vertical incline to get into the parking garage so long that the hubs heaved his door open and hiked up the hill to see why no cars were moving. And then we saw Mr. Parking Garage Guy emerge from his little
He may have been sleeping. Because as a parking attendant, that's what you should totally do on a busy city's Saturday evening.
He proceeds to tell us we can go ahead and park upstairs while he runs our card. And we can come back down and get it. Run our card or run with our card?
Is he for real? "Hey, Mr. Garage Guy, besides my debit card, why don't I go ahead and give you my bank account number, mother's maiden name, password, and social security number? Would that help?"
We park near an elevator, but notice there's some construction going on around it but no signs stating whether it was operational. And since I, nor my hubby, make it a practice to put ourselves and our entire family into a metal box that is operationally questionable, I decide to
His response: I'm not sure.
You're not sure?!
Think we'll pass.
He says we can just walk down the way we drove up. We decide to go with the stairs we found over in the corner that he apparently didn't know were there.
Once we made our way down we saw a partially cooked (possibly?) whole chicken sitting in the middle of the sidewalk. Does that top your list of things that you thought you would never hear on my blog? Yeah, me too. Can't believe I didn't get a picture of it for my blog. Oh, yeah, maybe it was the little bit of vomit that came up in my mouth that distracted me from taking it.
Guess that chicken's never gonna cross the road again.
Now picture even more cars coming in as we're trying to leave, while cars have to dance around one another in this safety violating, joke of a garage. Forget the fact that the one lane entrance was also the exit. Sure glad there wasn't a fire that we needed to get away from and sure glad the people coming up the semi-vertical incline as we were going down didn't reach in and steal our Psalty's CD.
Turns out the circling and circling of the block to get that street parking may have been a more attractive alternative then we first originally thought. Oh well. Thankfully it was only a half hour at of our entire day of fun, family, fellowship, and food!
I know it's in backwards order, but here's the almost Wordless Weekend as promised.:)
Here's our Doogie Howser of animals...:)
1) ball goes in, 2)air pushes ball up and out, 3)and it falls on your head...ooohhhh!!!The Sand "Room"
Fun.
Tired.
A good tired.
5 comments:
A chicken? Really?
I am CRACKING UP over this line: "Guess that chicken's never gonna cross the road again."
Ahhh.... Portland.
It's nice to see photos of your adorable children and handsome husband. We miss you!
I love Psalty.
Oh lawdie! (I can only *imagine* the Google searches that'll find your blog now!)
Chicken? Are we talking feathers and all or grocery store chicken? I guess it all falls under the "keep Portland weird" slogan. Seriously though, you should report that garage dude!!!
That is the strangest thing I've EVER heard of!!! I so wish you had taken a pic!!
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