Side Of Fries: Gypsy Wagons and Tipis

As many of you are aware, Erin convinced me to go on a vacation last week where we stayed in two very unique, but equally inhospitable environments -- a gypsy wagon and a tipi (or tee-pee if on Route 66). I wanted to make sure to get my version of events in print before Erin jumps in with her Technicolor version, so here is my recounting of the vacation.

First, we spent the end of the week last week at our annual China adoption reunion. This was, as always, a very nice time. I actually look forward to this each year, which is surprising for me. I don't much like people usually, especially those with whom I only share a tangential bond. But these folks are all A-OK, and we had a great time with them. (And who am I kidding...I don't much like several blood relatives either, so that bond thing is a lie.)

After leaving the reunion in Columbus, Ohio, we ventured south to the Hocking Hills district of Ohio. Our first two evenings were to be spent in a gypsy wagon at Ravenwood Castle. Now in theory, this sounds like kid heaven. They get to stay in A CASTLE. But in our case, funding our house, three adoptions, whatever forced us into the adjacent gypsy wagons, which had their own rustic charm.

To Erin's credit, the wagons themselves were not bad. We all slept pretty well. My only concern was that the wagon looked a little unsteady on its concrete block foundations, and after Daddy has had too much dinner, I could see that wagon resting on its side while I lie, still scrambling for the door, trying to get to the toilet.

And let's talk about the toilet. We had our own bathroom down the hill from the gypsy wagon, but it was pretty rough stuff. Lots of bugs. I don't want to be too hard on it, as I've already got a dialogue going with the owner over at Tripadvisor, but it wasn't especially pleasant. And to make matters worse, the toilet wasn't working when we first arrived -- after a long day in the car and several meals since our last potty break. Let me just say that the two young ladies cleaning the bathroom immediately after I left could have been a little more discrete with their commentary. Just sayin'.

After experiencing two mostly OK nights in the gypsy wagon, we headed on up the highway to our tipi. Again -- a kid no-brainer, right? I checked into the tipi, and my first clue that something was up was when the owner offered me jello shots for the evening. Why would I need alcohol to get through the evening? Oh, but little did I know.

For you see, the owner also sold me a small pile of wood to use in the stove in the tipi for the evening, which was slated to be in the low 40's. After burning myself and busting three (THREE!) lighters trying to get the fire going, this eagle scout headed to Wal-Mart and bought a starter log and an aim-n-flame. Voila. Fire.

But the problem was the tipi was still cold. REALLY cold. Trent was OK because he was tightly bundled. Grace was OK because she's a freak of nature and could sleep naked in a, well, in a tipi. Grant, mommy and daddy froze our hides off. At 2am, I was shuffling around the woods in my underpants looking for anything that would burn -- wood, twigs, grass, my dignity. At one point, Erin thought she actually broke one of her toes off when it cracked as she flexed it. No lie. Nothing says, "Happy vacation honey!" like the words "Will you check to make sure Grant still has a pulse?" at 4am.

When we woke up (or rolled over frozen) at 8am, I said very calmly to Erin, "Did you get this out of your system?" There's no native American worth his or her salt who wouldn't have traded a tipi in for a Holiday Inn Express if they'd had the option. And in the future, neither will this fat kimosabe.

China Reunion Pics (thanks, Georgette for the photos)