Mammoth Cave

Last week I was scheduled to do five solid days of training in the great state of Alabama.  I generally like visiting Alabama.  I have relatives there, and they generally don't keep a very good eye on their stuff.  It's usually a win for me.

I took the family with me, as I thought the kids would enjoy getting to see their cousins, and Erin would enjoy regaining some of her ability to converse with adults.  So we packed into the minivan on Friday and headed for the deep south.

We spent Friday night just south of Louisville, and in my usual fashion, we chose to eat at Hammerheads.  The food was decent, but we weren't necessarily as enthusiastic as the reviews we read online.  Plus their website looks circa-1994.

On Saturday, we ventured on down to Mammoth Cave National Park.  Erin has been suffering from what I will call "small space induced anxiety."  I have tried to convince her repeatedly that she is just getting old and insane, but she insists she has a real affliction.

So as we pulled up to Mammoth Cave, I continued to disregard her notion that she would be unable to go down into the cave. So as we got off the bus, I could tell Erin was not ok. She insisted on going at the end of the line, so I took Grant and Grace on ahead.

As we descended into the cave, Grace became highly concerned that I was taking her into a situation that her mother obviously had deemed unsafe. So she started screaming. A lot. For many minutes. Loudly.

Eventually we reached the first stopping point. As I tried to speak reason into Grace ("Mommy isn't here yet because she's nuts, not because the cave isn't safe."), a ranger asked the group "Where is Bret Hawkins?" I thought, "Well isn't it obvious that it's the guy with the screaming daughter and the missing mother?"

"Sir, your wife didn't make it. "

"Yeah, no real shock there. I take 2 out of 3 kids,  and she conveniently loses her mind."

I went on with the 2 kids, but they obviously don't trust me over their mother.  From that point on, both kids were quiet, obviously convinced that they would be spending their remaining days eating cave crickets and living in the cave.

After we ascended from the cave and were reunited with mommy, I was summarily blamed for the entire situation.  "I told you I didn't want to go... You never listen to blah blah blah."

We ended the trip with some pictures in front of the Mammoth Cave sign. I declared it Epic Fail National Park and agreed to get Erin an anti anxiety Pez dispenser when we got home.