I asked, “Do you guys have any idea how dirty you are?” And this was their reply. Lowe looked genuinely surprised.
Lowe spotted this guy first. We found another one basking in the sun along the shore, as well. Being a parent of young children in the south has to be incredibly stressful. Telling kids to not go near the water is like telling them not to touch the cookies you just took out of the oven. Although I suppose once they’ve seen a few of these guys up close they probably lose the inclination to want to go in the water anyway.
There are armadillos all over the place. Lowe and I walked up to one and gave him a gentle poke in the butt with a stick. The little accordion jumped up in the air, then turned and chased us all the way back to the Airstream while making some sort of snuffling noise. We about died laughing. Lowe said, “I can’t wait to tell Mama and Da (his nickname for Ouest). That was my favorite part of boy’s day.” Always nice when a father can spend quality time harassing adorable/hideous/adorably hideous animals with his son.
I know there is plenty of family friendly things to do in New Orleans, but still, every time we’re here I think, “We need to come here without kids some time.”
We jumped on a trolly out to the city park, which turned out to be a horrible idea. We figured the trolly cars were more or less a silly tourist thing to do. Instead it’s actually a way for locals to get around—and it’s quite possibly the slowest public transportation option available anywhere in the United States. It’s 30 blocks from the French Quarter to the City Park, and it takes 45 minutes each way on the trolly. We could have walked it that fast. We couldn’t believe that any local would ever ride that thing. Get a bike.