We made an innocent attempt to let the kids experience a family-style, southern-fried chicken dinner at a place that has not changed its menu or decor in 50 years.
Going to The Damsite Inn is a little like visiting Gramma’s house for me, as I have fond memories of eating there as a kid. My kids were totally impressed when I told them that I had worked there between my freshman and sophomore years in college. I noted last night – with horror – that the waitresses still have to wear the same shapeless, awful, black polyester jumpers that were required in 1984. In spite of that distasteful memory, the place is family-friendly and I didn’t feel like cooking last night. Life’s too short not to dip into giant vats of grease now and again.
After an hour or so of struggling with the kids to comb their matted vacation hair and find clean clothes, we set off in search of mashed potatoes and buttermilk biscuits. We parked and started walking toward the restaurant, but then heard one of those sound combos that every parent dreads: car door “slam” followed by “AIIIIEEEEEEE!!!!!“
We went inside long enough to collect an ice pack and to determine that Abby’s pain was not going away, then set off to tour the local emergency room.
We were lucky. It was not busy by ER standards, and Abby managed to make it through triage, x-ray, assessment and bandaging in less than two hours. She was a great sport, posing for pictures between nurse and doctor appearances. She enjoyed the spotlight, despite her pain. She told the doctor the entire history of our summer vacation, beginning with our flight details, when asked, “So, what happened?”
Sam and Hannah were thrilled to watch Sponge Bob on the waiting room TV, and enjoyed some additional excitement as two sheriff’s deputies walked in with a handcuffed prisoner in an orange jumpsuit. He also seemed to enjoy Sponge Bob.
Abby’s thumb is not broken, but she is sporting a cool splint and calling her friends to tell them about her adventure. She has promised never to close another car door while gripping it by the edge. (Did I really never teach her that? Darwin Award for Mom.)
We had Happy Meals for dinner, complete with moody ambiance courtesy of the rental car’s maplights and Radio Disney. Chicken Dinner Attempt #2 is scheduled for Friday.
We’ll bring our own ice packs.