Due to some BS called 'Access Anywhere/Daytona' that overrode the T-Mobile log-in at Starbucks and robbed me of my $8.95 24-hour fee when I gave in and signed up, I was unable to share the blow-by-blow of my vacation, as you must know I'd intended. I was prepared to give you the full experience--the mullets, the cheerleaders, the Denture Tours, all of it. But it was not to be. In fact, Access Daytona screwed my computer up so badly that the last operation I was able to perform was sending Minus Five the info to post the last blog. After, I couldn't even send emails. Nothing. Complete withdrawal. (We should talk about blogging DT's--no one warned me.)
Instead of the whimsy of the Tropical Manor, then, I offer the ride home. Lo on a chocolate-donut-turtle-high. Dad bought the pet, even after I swore--having been caretaker already to Lo's goldfish, dwarf frogs, garden snake, house gecko, hermit crab, and parakeet--that I would not feed it, water it, bathe it, clean its cage, buy it treats, kiss it, sing to it, clip or trim anything on it, spray-mist it, give it vitamins, check its temperature, paint smiley faces on its shell, take it to the vet/park/show-n-tell, or find it if it goes missing.
Father and daughter were not deterred.
I mean it, though. I'm sorry I even took its picture.