Spanish Sunday

The great benefit of being in a place for weeks is that you can take a day and do very little. You don't have to get up and go to a museum, an event or a market every day. If you feel like napping all day after sleeping late, then you'll still be fine.  Today was a Sunday in Spain, so we figured there wouldn't be too many places open. That, plus the fact that my feet needed to grow more skin before I tried walking more, kept us in most of the day. Nicky and Greg went to feed the fish at the park around the corner, but Cassie and I avoided all activity that didn't involve making fried egg sandwiches.

Once we got near dinner time, we decided to go try a tapas place. Cassie was still uncomfy with the lack of children here (we see some kids around town, just not in restaurants), so we went to a touristy tapas place near the Magic Fountains. I may remember this place for life, not because the food was so special, but because Nicky choked on something and started the yacking process at the table, the way a cat starts working out a hairball. I convinced Greg to get the kid to the bathroom before true horrors occurred. No one barfs alone in my presence, so I'm a particularly horrendous mother in these situations. Presumably other mothers aren't urging their husbands, "GET HIM OUT OF HERE!" when the kid is choking.

I further increased my mommy-award potential by giving Cassie sangria. Well, she looks 18. Or at least she did after I had half a pitcher of sangria.

We left the tapas place and walked over to watch the fountain show, which involved only the main fountain and not the 20-some side fountains. So it wasn't as large as Bellagio, but featured cool colored mists that looked like flames or clouds. Unfortunately, there were also some young adult German tourists near the fountain. It seemed to be their mission to remind the world that it's been awhile since the last big euro-war, so it might be time to invade Germany again, unless they promise to keep these idiots home. Now I know how people feel about American tourists. I tried to rationalize this experience by remembering that I was a thoroughly obnoxious teenager in Europe once, and the universe deserves to have a little revenge on me.

We took the subway back north, but hopped off and walked 20min instead of bothering with the connecting bus. The city at night is quiet, but the Diagonal didn't feel dangerous or menacing. Off the Diagonal, the streets got dark in a hurry, and I was glad we didn't live too far off.  There weren't any creepy people, but it is still strange when your normally active neighborhood goes silent.

Tomorrow I'm thinking about a Picasso museum trip. Greg has to go back to teaching tomorrow, so we are on our own for awhile. Part of Greg's responsibility is to find out whether all the kids made it back from their mid-summer break alive. We actually ran into one of the students in Rome, but aside from that, we haven't heard a thing. Here's hoping they are all in one piece.