We loaded up the car and headed for downtown Kona. We hit up a few souvenir shops but didn’t go crazy. Nothing really stood out as “buy me” and my immediate family and siblings and their families are trying to get away from stuff.
We had lunch at a beach side restaurant, hit some more shops, and took more meds to get us through the afternoon. Next stop we hit the arcade. Annicakes hit the mother load with tickets. I had the most points so they looted my card and got a bunch of stuff . Do you remember the 80’s cartoon “Shirt Tales” ? They had Rick and Digger in the arcade! Like, what time warp was I in? Next stop, Hawaiian shaved ice. Time to head to the airport!
We headed to drop off the car, no issues. Bags were too heavy so we played the reshuffle the stuff game. Too much stuff to be carried on. We get to tsa pre check and they confiscated my jar of coconut peanut butter, dang it! It was $11 of what appeared to be deliciousness! My bad, I missed it when fixing carryons at the Alamo counter…aaaand at the United counter. Precheck was a breeze and we find our gate and figure we’ll get a bite to eat. Restaurant closed until 6. Dang. I hit the gift shop to forage for food for my kin (I sound like I’m on the Oregon Trail…no dysentery here!) but the gift shop only had like a ginormous selection of macadamia nuts, cheap body lotion, and wait…my coconut peanut butter for $18 for the same size bottle? Take my money! I also picked up some honey and sweet pancake mix. No really, it’s sweetened. I didn’t mean for it to sound like, whoa dude this is some sweet pancake mix. But I digress.
The restaurant opened up and we had some sandwiches because I was not taking chances with my kids not eating on this flight. If anything hilarious or interesting happens on the way to Denver or The Lou I’ll be sure to post but honestly I just want to sleep. I want my kids to sleep. But youngest vermin plans to pull an all-nighter. If she does and acts a fool tomorrow I might leave her in Denver.
Things we learned on this trip.
It’s illegal to take sand from a Hawaiian beach.
You’ll make Pele mad if you take volcanic rock and you’ll be cursed until you return it. (I see that as a justification to HAVE to come back. Never mind, I’m superstitious).
Don’t whistle at night or spirits or something will get you. I dunno, I stopped paying attention but this is probably the one I should have paid attention to the most.
Years ago, like probably 1998, Ed and I traveled to Hawaii and as we left, my Dad cautioned us with these words in his gruff voice: “Be careful. Hawaiians don’t like Americans.”
I can honestly say: “Dad…I have no idea wtf you were talking about.”
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