For instance, there was much discussion and questioning and chatter and interrogating and oh-my-goodness-can-you-please-be-quiet-for-two-freakin'-minutes with regards to the facilities at the places of lodging. Specifically about the aquatic activities offered. The kids seemed to forget that this was a trip to visit historically significant sites or beautiful displays of God's handiwork. Not one big swim meet. It was after an afternoon of whining and begging for the pool instead of listening to park rangers when I snapped.
Me: Alright, there will be no more whining, complaining, or in any way making a negative comment about this vacation until after dinner or so help me, you will stay in the hotel room and watch me through the window swimming and doing cannonball dives and belly flops to my heart's content. Do you understand?
Boy: My leg hurts.
Me: (Head exploding)
I will say that after a morning and afternoon of hiking and heat and humidity and sweating and drinking lukewarm water from a source also shared with my toddler, who does not grasp the finer points of preventing backwash, slipping into the pool was actually pretty darn nice.