We left the babies with Grandma in Plano and ran down to San Antonio for a quick trip, and each one of the 48 hours we were there was packed with thoroughly non-cultural vacationing madness:
Our crazy huge hotel, the Emily Morgan, named after the woman Santa Anna was dabbling with instead of fighting those crazy Texans, hence, the Texans won Texas.
The Alamo, which did not make our itinerary.
But we took pictures because it was right across the street from our hotel.
Riverwalk, baby! I am happy to report we saw one very drunk young man fall in, who seemed quite proud of himself for it.
I cannot remember these guys' names, but they played an awesome blue/funk set at Pat O'Briens, to the delight of a very cheerfully drunk Air Force platoon next to us.
Next morning: floating down the river for several hours in a tube. I haven't done that much nothing since before Tyler was born, and it needs to happen much more frequently.
Our cheerful bachelor party friends floating in front of us. Also happily drunk. San Antonio is sauced!
To finish up an already awesome trip, we went to see a comedy show by Justin Worsham, who does the Dads Podcast with Bill Glass. It was a hilarious show, and afterwards, we went up to say hi, and ended up hanging out with Justin for a few hours after the show. We managed to be cool when he asked if we wanted to do anything ("Yeah, sure, that sounds fun."). Then he went inside to grab his stuff, and both of us started squealing at each other like 14-year-olds backstage at an NSYNC concert ("Oh man oh man Justin Worsham is in our car!!!").
The price for all of it: crispy red legs, tummies and backs. Totally worth it.