Sweetsie Tweetsie

This past weekend we went to Tweetsie Railroad.  It's a Western themed kiddie theme park in Blowing Rock, NC.  We rode the train (upon which a tribe of Indians come aboard to help the Marshalls help stop a cowboy robbery--yes, it is very unPC, but also a blast for little cowpokes and Indian maidens).  And most of the amusement rides are for kids 48" tall and under.  Oh, and the best part, it was a complete surprise for Henry. 

His face when he saw the sign for Tweetsie Railroad...

 

Can you tell that they were both excited?  

 

Before we hopped on the train, we got ready for the shenanigans.  Gracie has been wearing her headdress everywhere.  And her doll?  She named Princess Wacka Wacka.  (We suggested the name Hiawatha.  Wacka Wacka is what we got...)

The train ride was a bit loud.  And it smelled of cap guns.  

With her hands on her ears, Grace kept saying, "It's scawy Daddy."  Of course, as soon as we got off the train, she was shouting, "It not scawy.  I love it!"  (This is also her reaction to spiders, flies, and the teppanyaki chefs at Kabuto.)

And of course, we rode the rides...

Towards the end of the day, I noticed my wallet was no longer in my purse.  We went to the lost and found and they radioed the places on the mountain we had been.  Nothing.  I was trying hard to not freak out.  Sloan was trying hard to lose it and yell at me.*  Mentally I was trying to discern everything that was in my wallet--credit cards, my license, an almost full punch card to Sweet Frog...

I decided to snag Henry and take the sky ride up the mountain to look myself in all of the places we went over the day.  As we scaled the mountain, I told Henry we needed to pray.  We needed to pray that I had merely lost my wallet and that someone had not stolen it from my purse.  And that God would find it.  So Henry and I began to pray and as soon as we had said Amen, we heard the crackle of a walkie talkie from a Tweetsie employee riding the sky ride down the mountain opposite us.  "Yes, I think we've found the wallet.  I'm sending it down."  I yelled at the man, "Hey, that's my wallet!"  

And so what had been a source of major trauma became a lesson to Henry and my own heart that indeed, God hears our prayers.

So we rode back down the hill and headed off for an impromptu visit with Sloan's brother at their house in Linville before we went to Tennessee for my great Aunt Margaret's birthday party on Sunday.     

And in case you needed a good laugh, I leave you with this video.  When I posted it to facebook, I gave it the following caption-- 

You'll notice 3 things in this video:
1. I will never win an Oscar for cinematography.
2. I don't like rides that spin multiple ways.
3. My husband never shuts up...

*Because Sloan rarely misplaces things and well, if it weren't for my neck, I'd lose my head.  These facts make the top 5 things I expect we will be fighting over for the next 50 years or so.  The fight usually goes something like this:  

Me:I didn't mean to lose it.  If I knew where I last had it, by definition, it wouldn't be lost.

Sloan: Well, how hard is it to keep up with your wallet?

Me: Apparently, pretty difficult.  Seeing as I don't know where mine is. 

Sloan: Are you even trying to be keep up with your things?

Me: (Insert intense sarcasm) No.  No, I am not.  And I don't expect to get any better at it anytime soon.  Aren't you glad I'm the one who stays home with the kids?

Sloan:  Can you honestly say you are doing your best?

Me:  Yes.  What are you my coach?

Sloan:  Coach?  What you need is a handler.

Me:  CAN YOU STOP MAKING FUN OF ME YOU GIANT JERK AND HELP ME FIND ME DAGGUM WALLET?