Padre!

It's hard to believe that nearly a month has passed since our annual trip to South Padre. We flew this year, which made the trip easier overall, and we think Truman had a better time although a fall in the Gulf (fully clothed, covered in sand and saltwater) within the first 30 minutes of arriving meant that he was a little water-shy for most of the trip.


Despite the very balmy temps, Truman insisted on wearing his graffiti jacket pretty much everywhere. He probably sweated off a pound or two during the vacation. (Maybe he's onto something?)



He was also quite enamored of this decorative cabinet in the condo. He spent a lot (I mean A LOT) of time going in and out of it. (We can post this photo now that our security deposit has been refunded.)


Almost the perfect size for him to completely conceal himself from view.



The Palmetto Inn, one of Padre's oldest Mexican restaurants and one of our favorites. Or so we thought. Turns out, Paul thought I loved it, while I thought he loved it. We used to plan our trip around its opening times, but now, who knows? Truman liked it, though, so maybe we'll keep going.



The Palmetto's famous homemade tortilla chips. They're really thick and crispy and good. Maybe they're reason enough to keep going back?


As I mentioned, Truman wasn't a big fan of the "ocean" water, but we're not sure if it was the fall or just the general wildness of the waves. By the last day, though, he enjoyed running into the surf a bit. We managed to lure him into the water for this photo, which is almost a replica of last year's.



Truman and Mom coming off the beach and into the dunes, which was really Truman's favorite hangout.


On our last day we went into Port Isabel (the mainland) to see the pirate ship that's docked there. Truman was not a fan of this pirate.


Nor this one.


On the bridge that extends beyond the docked pirate ship and into the bay. You can just barely make out the Padre "skyline" behind us and to our right.


Truman on the last day. A bit of algae bloom blew in (Red Tide, it's called), and poor Truman developed a pretty bad rash on his legs. So most of our last afternoon was spent in the condo, letting Truman run around in a diaper and doing pretty much whatever he wanted, which included going up and down a step stool (pictured) and watching way too much Elmo on DVD. But that's what a vacation's all about, right?