'Luth!

Gotta huddle together for warmth in Duluth.

Fans!  We are back.  You might not have known we were gone!  It wasn't cold enough for us in the Twin Cities, so we went to Duluth--the Greater Whiter North--for the weekend ("'Luth!" as Clara called it).  We went to the Great Lakes Aquarium where we learned an awful lot about Lake Superior and sturgeon, and to a railroad museum which is pretty awesome even if you aren't a railroad enthusiast, and would be super awesome if you are.  But let's be honest: the trip's best moments were all part and parcel of traveling with the bambini.

Graham and Connor gave Joe a pretty great CD for Christmas.  We listened to it twice.  The rest of the time, we listened to Jack Jackson's rendition of Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer, with which Joe is currently obsessed, and The Interstate Managers' Hey Julie, with which Birdie is currently quite taken.  Woe unto to you, Mix Master, if you cue up the wrong version of Rudolph, let alone another song, or you do not manipulate the iPhone quickly enough to get the song cued up approximately two milliseconds are it has been demanded, or you would like to listen to something else.  Really, you should not even try to attempt another tune because that song will no sooner have begun than from the backseat you will hear, "I want to hear the Julie song!  The Julie song!  THE JULIE SONG!" and then "After we listen to the Julie song, can we listen to Rudolph?"--this last will be repeated incessantly until you respond: "Can we listen to Rudolph?  Can we listen to Rudolph?  Can we listen to Rudolph?  Can we listen to Rudolph?"  Yesterday, when requests for Rudolph and and Hey Julie were issued in stereo and with mounting hysteria lest the wrong one be played first, Julie temporarily banned both from the airwaves because frankly, Fans, her nerves were shot.

Now you would think that the elevator would engender a fierce who-will-press-the-buttons competition, but actually, it did not.  The bambini took turns quite amicably, even after Clara figured out that the button for the second floor of the lodge in which we were staying was the same as her age.  ("I two!")  Birdie even suffered her big brother's good natured but incessant correction of her referring to the elevator as escalator: "It's an EL-evator.  You always call it ESC-alator."  (This from the boy who charmingly kept noting that we had to "pay for the room!" every time the ket card was put into the lock.)

We ate out every meal, of course, so there were lots of opportunities to review the restaurant rules:
1.  We listen.  Clara: "Listening ears!  Listen to our teachers and our parents!"  Joe: "You don't have to say teachers.  There aren't any teachers here."
2.  We use inside voices.  Clara (screaming): "No screaming!"
3.  We walk.  Clara: "No running!"
4.  We sit in our seat.  (Usually by the time we reach this rule, anticipation has reached a fever-pitch so there is not necessarily any attendant echo.)
In short, we behave, or "'have," as Clara says right now and mostly, they 'haved.

The same could not be said of them once they were tucked into bed, but what can you expect when they were sharing a bed, and with Chloe ("Chloe!"), Pink Dog, Bear-y (Clara's), Neaky, Penguin, and Bear-y (Joe's).  That's a New Year's Rockin' Eve right there, Fans.  It was better than the hotel pool and hotel pools are pretty great.

We awoke this morning to Joe throwing his arms up and screaming "Happy new year!"  He'd been rehearsing for days, waiting for the day.

Happy new year, Dearest Fans.

Steady, Mates.

The trains were impressive.

I've been workin' on the railroad. . .

Vikings-Packers game cannot match finding lotion unattended.

Snack time.  (The bambini refer to eating bananas peeled like this eating them "monkey style.")

We ate at Fitger's twice.