The boys are back in town! (ooh, the old song references are flyin). After 10 days in Panama for vacation, my buddies have returned.
A. & I sat at our usual booth in Chili’s last night with our usual drinks. We watched Michael Phelps win yet another race, with that look of “Yah, I told ya so” on his face. Seriously, not one bit excited or surprised. Just, yup, I knew it. But thats okay, I guess when you hold the record for highest medals received, you can do things like that. Whatev Mikey, just keep swimming.
An hour later, the boys finally showed up. Due to their fashionably late entrance, and the fact that “Last call” on a week day here is like eleven (ehhhh), they just ordered two rounds straight up. A. & I happily sipped on, and we ended up being the last people there.
So, we’re deciding where to go, somewhere to just ‘hang out’, and somebody suggests a park. Huh. That’s one I haven’t tried in a while. And by a while, I mean like being 17 and thinking Oooomg there’s nothing to do here. Park? Whatever. That was pretty much the same train of thought we were all having at 22 as well. Interesting.
We show up at our old elementary, just for kicks. And because they have all these ridiculous new playground things, and you could really be entertained for hours. Well, if you’re like 5. Or a little buzzed off a cosmo. Not gonna lie, I had a great time. Slides, monkey bars (those are haaard!), climbing around, sprinklers goin’ off, a glider thingy, etc. It was great. Certainly an upgrade or two from what we had back in the day, but still the same playground. Good times.





