Raising Reagan

First of all, I apologize for the few day off from the blog. I've made it my intention to blog 2-3 times a week at a minimum, but we've been gone...mentally and physically.
We took a trip to Boston. This was a trip that Sarah and her sister had put together for their Dad's (Papa's) 70th birthday. He's a history buff (ex-teacher, in fact), and ex-coach, so they knew he'd appreciate the history of Boston, as well as a trip to Fenway Park. In fact, we almost all enjoyed it!

We made a drive to Lexington and Concord. We climbed the monument at Bunker Hill. We saw the Old North Church where the lantern's of some old schmo named Paul Revere (apparently NOT of Beastie Boys fame, to my embarrassment). Great trip indeed.

Now the funny thing is, is that we've recently had conversations about Reagan, and whether or not she's old enough for Disney World. She's absolutely into princesses, talking dogs and souvenir's that may require another mortgage, so we're convinced next year may be the year.

With that in mind...we somehow NEVER though to consider if she was old enough for Boston. Granted, the trip wasn't 'for' her, but any time you bring a four-year-old, it becomes ABOUT her. So no, Lexington and Concord was of no interest to her. The only Concord she knows is the grape variety shown on a half empty, sticky jelly jar. If the Old North Church had remotely looked like Cinderella's castle, that MAY have won her over slightly. The only thing this child was interested in, is the soft pretzels at the Old State Building. This is the sight of the Boston Massacre as well, which I find is an odd place to sell soft pretzels and roasted nuts. "This is the sight of the dreaded Boston Massacre!! Eight colonials were shot to death here that eventful day, thus leading to the freedom of our country!! Want some nuts?"

We'd go to Fanuil Hall...the oldest marketplace in the country. The Union Oyster House...the oldest restaurant in the country, and we stayed at the oldest, continuously operated hotel in the country...but if The Girl didn't get a Boston Massacre soft pretzel, all this freedom was for not. In her eyes, we may have just stayed British. Next year Goofy had better be carrying a stick of pretzels.