Highland Park

For years we have had visions of our older selves happily roaming the streets of Highland Park. We could live there. 

It's always a fun place to visit. This past weekend we used it several times as a safe haven. After the horrid Dart experience, we ended up going to one of our favorite restaurants. Mi Cocina. We had no plan other than never riding Dart again and we knew that Fair Park was not happening. 

So we sat and had dinner. Elle got her hair caught in our battery operated fan. Andrew took her to get her paci and calm down. I had a margarita. We listened to a guy at the table behind us talk about "mom butts." (I'm not sure this guy will ever find anyone to marry him but his conversation was entertaining.) It was lovely. We really did enjoy it.

Eventually dinner ended and we had to find somewhere to go. Andrew thought he saw people setting up lawn chairs on our way to Mi Cocina so we drove back by to see if there was some fun family event that we were missing. There was, but we weren't invited. So we drove around some more. 

Our little car adventure led us to a goldmine. Hundreds of cars were lining the streets of the Dallas Country Club and people were propped up in lawn chairs and on blankets all around the premises. You better believe I found an awesome parking spot and we dumped our crew on the curb. 

Some fellow watchers gave the girls glow sticks, we listened to music from a parked suburban beside us, and the girls were mesmerized by the fireworks. It was the best firework show that we have ever seen. And a pretty awesome night. I may or may not have teared up. 

We may be crazy but these little snippets of time are worth all of the sweat put into the trip. Not many husbands would go along with these shenanigans. I've got a keeper.