So there I was soaking and cleaning up on the beach, when the news hit me late that Michael Jackson died. I rushed back to the room and tried unsuccessfully to get my Disney-junkie son to let me see some of the news about the death and whatever else I could find. I had to settle for bits and pieces of information here and there during his bathroom breaks. Very frustrating, but I wasn't really up for a TV war with the spawn of my flesh on MY precious beach rum-drinking time.
As it turned out, when the little junkie wasn't hogging the TV and making me drink, he was competing hard in all the games they had for kids on the resort. So out he came to play in the scavenger hunt that night as I nursed my pain at Michael Jackson's passing over a few drinks.
Game was exciting. Lots of competitors. But soon all the little hopefuls had been dismissed and gone crying to their mommies, and it was down to my determined six-year-old junkie and another slightly older kid. The task was to find a picture of Michael Jackson. My boy took off from the starting spot in a blaze to make even Usain Bolt sit up straight. He whizzed right up to our table and paused for a moment to whisper "Who's Michael Jackson?"
I swear it was the best loss I ever had the pleasure of witnessing...EVER!
I say all that to say, I'm back.
