In Charleston over the weekend, we continued on with our planned site-seeing but did pay respects to those lost in last week's horrible shooting. Coincidentally, we stayed directly across the street from Emanuel AME Church. The street was closed, news vans littered the parking lots and sidewalks, and police were everywhere, helping to ensure a safe vigil. It was a sad experience and a testament to the stupidity of the few affecting all.
After seeing the sites Charleston has to offer, including Drayton Hall, Battery Park, the Three Sisters, Rainbow Row, and the fountains of Waterfront Park and, of course, having lunch at Tommy Condon's awesome Irish Pub, we called it an evening and hit the hotel pool. We tried ordering in for dinner, Papa John's was only .37 miles from the hotel after all. They took the order but called back 10 minutes later and said they'd have to cancel as they had no way of getting to us with the streets closed. Luckily, there were plenty of eateries in walking distance. Though, the streets near the church did have a tangible feeling that violence could again erupt at any second. Some people I talked to, who were locals, said they'd heard rumors the shooter wasn't acting alone and others could come through and try again... so, I left the family safely in the hotel and ventured out to score a pizza.
So, where's the blinding from the title of this post, you ask? That's the next night. My boys LOVE those hotel pools. They'll often want to forgo site-seeing possibilities not available ANYwhere else so that they can return to the hotel and jump in the pool.
Next day, we move the party to Sullivan's Island and Isle of Palms, stopping at Patriot's Point to tour the WWII aircraft carrier and submarine...it was too hot to fit in the battleship as well. On to the beach to cool off and then, you guessed it, to the pool. My boys have gotten a lot more comfortable in water, though they still cannot swim. But, with this heightened comfort level comes better horseplay potential. I can now throw them up in the air and let them crash into the water (with floaties), and they no longer mind going underwater. This led to them wanting to dunk me. Luke was up first and kneed me in my left eye. Not to be outdone, Eli then shoves me underwater and kicks, full toenail, into my eyeball! I couldn't tell if it scratched my eye or left something behind in it or both, but I couldn't see. I went over to the side of pool and put my head on the concrete, holding both my eyes. See, one hurt eye meant I couldn't move the other either since they move in tandem. Eli kept apologizing, because he's sweet, but I told him it wasn't his fault, "daddy just needs to take a break." An hour later, I was still having trouble seeing, still having fits of pain that forced both eyes shut. For some reason that I cannot remember due to the haze of pain, our car was at the hotel rather than the parking lot and needed to be moved. I, oddly, thought it'd be ok to be the one to move it. Squinting while driving, one of those pain waves hit and I had to virtually come to a stop, which thankfully because I was in beach traffic, was almost unnoticeable. Eyesight returned, I quickly got the car parked. I then went into some of the beach shops attempting to buy a pirate eye patch. I thought the eye patch would be funny, but I also thought it'd help block out the wind and the sun that seemed to exacerbate the pain waves. Sadly, in the two beach shops of Isle of Palms, no eye patches existed. Plus, the ladies running the registers looked at me like I was crazy since I was standing there, one eye squeezed tightly shut, asking for eye patches. At least I didn't say, "Arr, me harties" or something... But, I guess, eye patch sales are down this year, who knew. I picked up some sunglasses instead.
Back at work, still wearing my new awesome mirrored shades to help with the bright office lighting, my co-workers made fun of me, comparing me to Top Gun...
