JB invited me to F1 at the very last moment, and on a beautiful Sunday morning I dropped the kids off at the Shahs and went off to the races.
I could tell Evan was going to be difficult - he had woken up on the wrong side of the bed and there was nothing to be done about it. Now, over at the Shahs, as long as Vivian eats a bit of salad, these kids know that they can get away with murder. Later I was surprised to hear that Evan got sent to time-out once. Which is amazing because a) the Shahs are ultra nice to the kids, and b) Evan shaped up after just one time-out.
Next year maybe I'll take the whole fam to F1. In cowboy hats and Gucci boots.
I could tell Evan was going to be difficult - he had woken up on the wrong side of the bed and there was nothing to be done about it. Now, over at the Shahs, as long as Vivian eats a bit of salad, these kids know that they can get away with murder. Later I was surprised to hear that Evan got sent to time-out once. Which is amazing because a) the Shahs are ultra nice to the kids, and b) Evan shaped up after just one time-out.
F1 was fun. Always nice to see the over-the-top ostentatious display of wealth and status. And how much better the Mercedes team was. And COTA must have mistook F1 for Nascar when they invited Kid Rock for a concert - which lead to hilarious snob / redneck identity crises for onlookers. But I digress. That week, starting with diner with Ash, beer with the Austin Philosophy Club, Halloween, and a late night at the Tech Ranch, I hadn't seen Jo and the kids much. When I got home from F1 smelling faintly of refreshments, they circled the wagons and I was out. Even Crazy, my loyal cat, stood there and glared while they all sat on top of each other and listened to Jo reading Nancy Drew and Ramona and Beezus.
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