So, yesterday after I posted, we saw a billboard for touring the Tabasco plant on Avery Island. The master has always wanted to do that--he has a deep and abiding love for the pepper sauce. We made a spur of the moment decision to go. It was a pretty cool (or should I say, 'hot'?) tour, but it put us hours behind our gator farm schedule. THEN we hit a horrendous grid-lock in Grosse Tet, which road sign Ian unfortunately read as 'gross tit' and he and Ian pro eded to laugh about half-way to Baton Rouge. That's normally not a long drive, but yesterday, it took almost two hours. The gator farm website said they closed at 6:00, and we knew we were going to miss it. The master just about blew a gasket. Did you know he could do that? Doesn't happen very often, but it DOES happen. The hillarity of the back seats died down. It was one of those rare moments when children instinctively know to maintain silence for self preservation. Long story short, we made the last tour of the day--turned out they didn't follow the specified times--it's a Cajun thing. Wish we would have known that before the apoplexy. When we got to the hotel, they didn't have the suite we had reserved. They had rented the second bedroom and wanted us to pay the same amount for the one bedroom and living room. I don't think so. After much wrangling with the night desk clerk, we were finally settled into the handicap room. There were only two double beds, but additional floor space, so we were back to putting pallets on the floor.
We are driving by grace to Lake Charles. The master has his leg off and we are all griping about the smell. Hoping we do not miss the party.
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