The best-laid plans

We had a plan. It was a really good plan. We were to meet up with L'il Angel at the entrance to Mud Island at noon. From there, we were going to explore downtown Memphis and end up at the National Civil Rights Museum (NCRM).

The state park we were staying at was located about 12 miles north of town, in the middle of rolling hills, thick groves of trees, and winding roads. The signage was terrible, and we'd gotten lost several times going in and coming back out; therefore, we decided to leave around 10 a.m. to make sure we could find a parking place and the Mud Island entrance. There was lots of construction downtown, but we arrived safely at 11 a.m. The boys started their mad dash from one end of the park to the other.

Mud Island is so awesome! I visited this place as a kid, and I remembered how much fun I had wading down the replica of the Mississippi River. The boys took off their shoes and traced the different twists and turns. Every 30 inches represents one mile of the 1,000 mile span of the lower Mississippi. It goes on for five blocks, and ends in a miniature Gulf of Mexico, where visitors can take a paddle boat ride.

I watched the time, and we all trekked back to the north entrance to wait for L'il Angel. After awhile, I called her cell phone. "I hit some construction, but I should be there in about 10 minutes," she told me. SO took the boys back into the park, and we agreed to meet at the paddle boats. I read my book. When I checked the time again, 45 minutes had elapsed. Where was L'il Angel? I dialed her number again.

"I'm lost! I don't know how I ended up here." I could hear the frustration in her voice and the sounds of her hungry children in the background. After some discussion, we decided to call off the meet-up. We were both disappointed, but I'd noticed that there were more than one entrance to the park, and wasn't sure we'd even find each other before my own kids started clamoring for lunch.

That wasn't the only plan that we changed. We also tossed out our visit to William Faulkner's home in Oxford, Mississippi.

After visiting the NCRM, we decided we needed to find an activity to do that the boys would really enjoy. I think LegoGuy got something out of the museum: he knew about the assassination of MLK Jr. and was aware of the Civil Rights Movement, but there was so much information to process. He was completely overwhelmed. Sport liked seeing the replica of the bus on which Rosa Parks made her famous protest, and the burned out bus of the Freedom Riders, but it was way over his head as to the historical significance of the subject matter.

So, instead of taking a guided tour of Rowan Oak, the next day we stayed at the park and went swimming. As a souvenir, we all got a lovely sunburn. We went back to our cabin, ate some frito-chili pies, played a game of SPOONS, told scary stories (until Sport got spooked), and then shared our most embarrassing moments and other assorted childhood anecdotes.

It was a total blast!