The Farm Report

Day 2: Addendum

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So here’s a funny thing about parenting—you never quite get it down.

I used to say this a lot when the kids were little. You’d nail down a whole routine around their nap and then they’d stop napping. That sort of thing.

Turns out this phenomenon holds true when they’re eight.

I had a whole plan for our trip to D.C. We’d go see some historical places—but not too many. For Neko, we’d go to the Natural History Museum, since that sort of thing is really right up her alley. We’d walk and talk. How could this possibly go wrong?

Except it did.

We took our trolley to our first stop without a hitch. When it reappeared, a huge family swarmed in front of us, taking all the free seats, despite our waiting for 30 minutes before them. Without many other choices, we then walked from the White House to the Lincoln Memorial in 90° heat.

There was a lot of eight-year-old complaining. There were several stern talks from a weary mother which included several heated mentions of the phrase, “This is SUPPOSED TO BE FUN.”

Finally, Neko turned to me, and mumbled, “It just seems like we’re doing everything YOU want to do.”

And then I realized I was having one of those parenting moments. We have graduated from the time where I set the agenda for vacation. These little people, whom I used to run around in a stroller, carefully scheduling around naps and bedtime, have their own ideas these days.

So under a tree, in the middle of Washington D.C., I asked Neko what she would like to do. Her answer? She would like to get a souvenir at the gift shop, ride on the Metro, and go swimming.

It was time to reevaluate my list.

We agreed we would finish seeing the sights, and then go swimming. I would get to have take-out from the nice Mexican restaurant down the street. Tomorrow we would go on a duck tour, hit the gift shop and pick up souvenirs. But I also wanted to see Julia Child’s kitchen at the American History Museum.

We shook on our new plan.

That evening, I found myself on the Metro, riding home from a swimming pool across town, with my daughter, both of us smiling and content.