For those of you not hardy enough to brave the Crescent City climate in August, I have compiled a brief glimpse into our adventure that was Too Much Fun. And lest you get all preachy about introducing four kids to Bourbon Street and the French Quarter, I will tell you to Get Over It. We didn't permit dancing on tables or overindulging in any way (except at Café du Monde--eating, not dancing). We're very Baptist that way.
Requisite pretentious shot in front of a stretch limo. This child will likely tell her friends that she rode in this stretch limo and was treated like a princess. A princess wearing a dirty t-shirt and torn capris.
We versed our children in the merits of Happy Hour in the hotel lobby. They caught on quickly that a bottomless glass of Coke and unlimited visits to the trail mix bowl constitutes a full meal. The "happy" part must have come after this picture was taken.
In Parenthood, Diane Wiest's character tells her daughter, Julie, something like, "Well, when my kids want something, I want to get it for them." This is an example of such parenting policy. One of my kids wanted to walk on the field of the Superdome. So I got it for him. Because I spoil my kids that way. And I did not break any laws or windows to make it happen. It just happened. Anything else I write might be incriminating.
And then we found the Saints' locker room. It was very locked. Despite our efforts, we could not open this door. We were not entirely disappointed, as we never expected we would get this far. Neither did Superdome Security.