A Very Random and Somewhat Bananas Spring Break Diary

Let's keep this casual (and weird)

I’m going to keep this one casual because I feel like our relationship is strong enough to handle a little unfiltered, old-school blogging! My kids were on Spring Break last week. It’s hard to believe we’re three-quarters of the way through another school year. Time sure does fly, and empires sure do crumble right before our eyes, etc.

Anyway, here’s a little glimpse of what we did.

I’m not sure if it’s the same where you are, but around these parts, Spring Break actually starts the week before Spring Break. It’s a bit of a paradox. There is no school on Friday the week before, and on Thursday, our elementary school always hosts Field Day and Family Picnic. So, on the Thursday before Spring Break, Michelle and I went up to school bright and early to watch our youngest two play some games in a field.

When I was in elementary school, Field Day was highly competitive, with ribbons for event winners and a giant trophy given to the classroom in each grade that scored the most total points. It was the pinnacle of the school calendar. We trained for the three-legged race and the water balloon toss like we were getting ready for the Olympics. Teachers made sure to stack their relay teams with the fast kids and bury the unathletic schlubs in events like the Mash Relay (which is an event name I distinctly remember even though I can’t find it anywhere online… I think it was what the internet calls a leaking cup relay where team members take turns transporting water in a cup that has holes in it).

Anyway, that’s not how things are at my children’s school. There is almost zero competitiveness. When they do the three-legged race or ride scooter boards to move ping-pong balls from one place to another, they take turns continuously for a set period of time, and nobody even keeps track of who wins or loses. They do it for the love of the game, I guess? For fun? Weird.

Because of this lack of killer instinct, the modern Field Day isn’t particularly interesting, but at least it’s relatively short and the weather was nice. We had a pleasant time. They still do tug-of-war, and there was some rope burn on the hands and children falling to the ground and getting stepped on, so at least we still have that.

I bet you didn’t think I still had my Field Day ribbons, did you? I’ve proven you wrong once again.

oh no, not the hula hoop relay!

After the pre-Spring Break festivities, we transitioned to Spring Break proper with a day trip to Tampa to see the Savannah Bananas. If you’re not familiar with the Bananas, they are kind of like the baseball version of the Harlem Globetrotters with a lot more choreographed dancing and shirtlessness.

I’m still not entirely sure what to make of the Savannah Bananas experience. The kids seemed to enjoy it well enough. It’s a fun and frivolous spectacle. It feels like sports for people who don’t really like sports, which is kind of an odd concept, but I guess it’s a good thing to experience once. Our seats were in the outfield, so it was hard to appreciate the tricks they do during the actual baseball playing without watching the big screen. The dancing was funny-ish, but the extra in-game entertainment seemed to be weirdly fixated on such things as how long people in the crowd had been married and various displays of forced patriotism, which was kind of cringy to me. They also change the music every fifteen seconds or so and rarely mention what is happening in the game so it feels a little like scrolling TikTok.

To be fair, I am a huge stick in the mud. Everyone else I’ve encountered seems to love the Bananas without reservation. You should probably go if you ever get the chance.

Somehow, the game ended up going into extra innings. Or a showdown. Or a face-off. Or whatever it is they call it in Banana Ball. This was extremely convoluted, involving the pitcher and batter more or less going one-on-one or one-on-two (with one fielder on defense). The batters were kind of terrible, considering all they needed to do was get the ball in play pretty much anywhere on the field. The game would likely still be going on but the head banana, a guy in the yellow suit and hat who I think is the team owner, called in a favor after thirty minutes or so of the protracted duel and instructed the dancing umpire to make a terrible call at home plate so the Bananas could be declared the “winner.” The crowd went home happy.

After the game, we stayed the night in a hotel before returning home the next day. The hotel had free breakfast, and we were on the top floor with an unobstructed view of the industrial park next door. Win-win.

The rest of Spring Break was fairly mundane by comparison. The kids had a few friends over at various times. We went to the playground once. They ventured into the woods by the pond in our neighborhood and made a small encampment, and one of them slept over at a friend’s house one night. Normal things.

We also went over to the East Coast to visit my mom for the day and walk around by the river. There were some manatees in the water that we couldn’t really see, but close enough, and then the kids clambered around on the rocks by the water for an hour or so.

It was cold and windy that day, by Florida standards, so it wasn’t the most comfortable hour for me, but at least I got this photo of Hades staring out to sea (the river).

On the last day of Spring Break, we went to SeaWorld because my oldest really wanted to ride rollercoasters. We woke up early and arrived just as the park was opening. The weather was nice, and the crowds weren’t too bad. I managed to avoid riding any rollercoasters except for the kiddie coaster in Sesame Street Land and one kiddie-adjacent coaster at the penguin exhibit that made me slightly nauseous. Oh, yes, and I also won a basketball carnival game, and we are now the proud owners of a giant duck plushie.

However big of a duck plushie you’re imagining, think bigger. I’m not going to say or show anything more because I’m bringing you the full duck experience in a brand-new post next week. Stay tuned.

The game I won was the standard basketball shooting game. I paid for eight shots since the sign said that was the best deal. My son burned through the first four without hesitation, and I was like, “Whoa there… are you going to let me shoot any or what?”

The guy told me to use a lot of arc, so I did. My first shots weren’t terrible, but they hit front rim and bounced off. The rims are small, and the balls are rubber and overinflated so you have to be very precise. My third shot floated high, cleared the front rim, and rattled around, ultimately resting on the back flange for a moment before falling through the hoop. What a moment. My daughter immediately selected the giant duck because the kids had already chosen the prize before I even agreed to play. They knew we were going to win. They suggested we play again since it was so easy and because the giant koala would pair perfectly with the duck, but I convinced them we shouldn’t press our luck.

And with that, Spring Break ended, and we’re back to reality. The kids are back in school. On their first day back, I went in for a check-up with my GP since I was overdue and I had nothing else to do. She said I was the picture of health (she didn’t say that, but I read between the lines). I did score high on the generalized anxiety survey, but she was like, “Such is life, I guess,” and I was like, “Amen, sister.” We promised to meet up again in six months, this time over FaceTime for a virtual visit to mix things up.

I was about to say to her, “Come on… generalized anxiety? Me? My newsletter subscribers can attest that I am A-okay on that front.”

But then I remembered the last newsletter I sent out. And the one before that. And the one coming up next. And the— yeah, you get the idea.

I decided to keep my mouth shut.

At least we’ll always have Spring Break.

Don’t forget to check out my books.

Love’s a Disaster - contemporary fiction about a marriage proposal gone wrong, complicated families, second-chance love, Florida, sword fighting, and punk rock music.

Fatherhood: Dispatches From the Early Years - essays and humor about the very early years of my parenting journey

Please hit that heart button to help others find this story or forward the email to a friend who loves stories about Field Day. You know the one!