St. Augustine: A Photo Essay

Greetings all. Another brief hiatus from my Procrastination series for a visual trip down memory lane.

With winter in full swing, I thought I’d share some warmth and joy from a summer trip to St. Augustine, FL.  If you’ve never been, it’s an amazing little city with wonderful history (the oldest city in the U.S., in fact) and culture. My wife and I actually met at Flagler College more years ago than I’d care to disclose, so we thought it to be a particularly fun idea to show the kids where Mom and Dad met.

One of the most charming aspects of life there is the myriad unique attractions within walking distance of campus. In particular, St. George Street is a pedestrian street that has a great deal to offer in the way of restaurants, shops, and a variety of entertainment.  Among the many lovely places to indulge one’s sweet tooth is Kilwin’s Chocolates, right there on St. George.  They’ve got everything you could imagine, and their ice cream is second to none.

It was on a particularly hot and humid summer night (what summer night in St. Augustine isn’t hot and humid?) that my wife and I, tired after a long day of exploring the city, decided to throw caution to the wind and fill our children with sugary goodness right before bedtime.  So, at roughly 8:30pm we purchased one Kilwin’s cone for each walking kid thinking we were providing a nice, leisurely treat to close out the day.  We had no idea of the creamy carnage that would ensue.  Well, okay… perhaps we had some idea.

Our oldest boy, despite the slight ice cream goatee, made pretty short work of his cone.

Our middle daughter, affectionately known as the Sugar Queen, devoured hers with gusto.

After enjoying her cone, our oldest daughter took on baby duty… she’s quite the big sister, even when the little one is not the happiest of campers.

As we stood outside Kilwin’s enjoying our cones (or babysitting), it became apparent that one member of the family was fighting a losing battle against his ice cream.

He appeals to his mom for help, but to no avail.  “Is there any way to keep this inside the cone?”

It appears that this ice cream theorem goes something like this:

Heat² + Ice cream cone + Small boy = Mess³

There I go, trying to do math again.

Anyway, despite his best efforts, he couldn’t keep up with the meltdown occurring in between his hands. Initially, being the clean freak I am, I began to put the camera down to go for napkins and attempt a massive clean-up effort. But, it quickly became apparent that it was best to allow the creamy chaos to unfold and document it all for posterity. And so I did.

Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more.

Yep, that’s ice cream in his nose, and a chocolate chip perched on the edge.  I wonder if that enhances the experience… Either way, this is one exhausted little dude.

And so, once he could do no more damage to the cone (or once it had done sufficient damage to him… I’m not sure which), my wife bravely took him into the rest room and proceeded to bathe him in the sink.  Then, we went on our way toward Flagler College campus.

All in all, it was a lovely time and I’m certain we’ll remember it fondly for many years to come.  You’ll also be relieved to know that our son’s ice cream eating prowess has improved markedly since this harrowing experience.

The walk back to the car, with beautiful Flagler College campus straight ahead.

 

Thanks for reading!