Emily Missile-aneous Dining
August 1st, 2007 by Emily
Since CJ isn't able to post on here for awhile, I thought since this is a Kid's Perspective that this was a cute story to share.
Today, we went to the Naval Academy at Annapolis to be dragged all over the place by CJ's bad directions and manly "inner GPS". After we were thoroughly tired out by walking in huge circles, we decided to go get something to eat. CJ asked one of the Navy officers if there was a mess hall nearby. He later complained that one should never ask a Navy Officer for directions ANYWHERE.
When he got back in the car, he explained that we were going to eat at the Mess Hall on the campus. The kids were in awe and excited to eat as we drove around attempting to follow the young Ensign's directions. As we were driving around, Chris and Anissa were in the back of the van discussing how much fun it's going to be to eat in a giant Missile (mess hall). After all, we had been looking at old missiles and torpedoes that are on display.
From the back of the seat, Anissa asked, "How big is the Missile if we're able to eat inside it?" Chris was diligently looking left and right trying to find one that could fit our hefty appetites. For the record, we never found the Mess Hall….or the Missile!! We went to Cici's instead.
Precious! The image of these two eating in a missile has me chuckling!
I love it! … a missile big enough to eat inside! Aren't kids wonderful? Good post Emily.
Why do women always bag on men's inner-GPS?? Maybe there was a solar flare that scrambled the signal for the satellite.
I bet if the GPS was working, you would have been able to find the giant missile you could have eaten in.
It was a cloudy day!! And for the record, my hair doesn't look like that.
HAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHA!
reminds me of the time one of my kids asked me how many "toes" are on a TOW TRUCK!
Good post Emily! Kids are so funny!!
Yeah, one of my kids asked me one time if I knew Abraham Lincoln Ha! I wasn't that old then either!
Too cute! Thanks for sharing that Emily. The things that kids come up with. By the way Emily, CJ isn't the only one who thinks that have that inner GPS. Heaven forbid they stop and ask for directions. LOL!
As for the inner GPS….
In fall 1986, we were in the process of PCSing back to Germany. We had driven from Texas to NYC, since we were flying out of JFK and the family car had to be put on a ship out of NJ so we'd have it overseas. We got there (well, a hotel 4 miles on the Jersey side of the Lincoln Tunnel) a couple of days before our flight out. So, the day in between getting there and flying out, we played tourist – visiting Liberty Island, going into Manhattan. One problem: the World Series was going on in NYC that night. We were headed back to the Lincoln Tunnel, and some random guy was trying to direct traffic (it was bad), and we were told that it was taking 2 hours to get through the tunnel. Since it was my parents, me (age 16), and my two little sisters (about ages 5 and 18 months), it was decided we were try an alternate route back to our hotel. Not a problem, right? We that was fine until my dad took a wrong turn after the Brooklyn Battery Tunnel (or Bridge? I can't remember…). I was reading the map in the back seat of our van by the headlights of the cars behind us, telling my dad we were going the wrong way. We were in Queens by the time we turned around. Daddy never admitted that we were going the wrong way – he used the need to get gas as the excuse to get off the freeway (and this was around the time there were all those racially motivated killings in Queens…), then after getting gas, he conveniently started heading back in the other direction. It still took us two hours to get back to our hotel….
Loved it Emilly!! Awwww CJ its ok!! You are just SUCH A GUY!!!!! lol
Ya, Sue, especially when he gets off the interstate the exit BEFORE he's supposed to (even though he has the correct exit number), and the highway is so backed up it isn't worth getting back on.
(Ok, so I'm ragging on you some CJ, but I mean it in fun. 
My dad was well known for taking us places he only vaguely knew where they were and when he knew even less about how we'd get there. To top it all off, we usually spent most of the time finding the place on foot and in places where it was even harder to ask directions because of the language barrier. He called them his "David Livingstons". Most of the time I wished Stanley would hurry up and find us!