Ah you know. Just strollin down the river. Nevermind that we completely missed the cafe Momums and Daddles intended for us to meet them at. This is ok: we are in New Orleans, city of awesome, and it is nice and warm outside.
Ah, there's the coffee house.
All this place sells are beignets and coffee, which really is a positive rather then a detriment. Mom and dad are already feeding their faces with the doughy suckas.
Devour the morning.
Again, I prefer a more subtle method. After our light meal we stroll the flea markets of the French Quarter. Venders are set up for blocks, selling mostly derp but some nifty things.
Derp and obligatory. Nell has an eye on some glasses and maybe a classic mask until a familiar face catches her eye.
One only has to glance at the Thailand blog to underderstand her expression.
There's a party in the bathroom! While Nell and Mom party the boys head off to listen to a tallented yet extremely loud brass band nearby.
Seriously, these boys did not need to be amplified. Standing right her was not terribly enjoyable, so we headed off to get a little snowcone while discussing economics. We meet up with the partiers soon enough and Mom and I head back to the hotel for a nap, and Nell and Dad soon follow. My rest soon ends with an invitation back to royal street with promises of dinner.
Met some nifty street performers along the way.
Take my picture with it!
Yeah yeah pretty cool. As we approach the restaraunt, Dad gets the famous sheepish grin:
Gets the ok by him. We head inside.
And, well, its hard, nay, impossible to beat last night's meal. The food is pretty good, our waiter pales in comparison. Nevertheless, we enjoy our meal and the conversation turns to recollection and spissitude/spassitude.
And, while blury, poses will be made.
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