Far be it from us to assume that everyone knows who lives in a pineapple under the sea... but what we DO know is that a trip to Colonial Williamsburg is awesome and will make you want to talk all sorts of fancy and old-fashioned nonsense.
As rain blanketed much of Virginia, we pulled our massive vehicle on to the teeny tiny streets of Williamsburg, and got right to the business of seeing cool old stuff.
Mark does not enjoy a souvenir. Let's get that out there right now. That's good money that could be better spent on stocks, bonds, or zombie prepping gear.
Out of the gift shops and on to lunch, we found the very French and very amazing Blue Talon Bistro. Champagne. Crepes. Yes, please!
A little bubbly made the whole place seem even better, and we loved listening to the Williamsburg employees try desperately to get in a little work gossip while still staying in their required character.
Older lady making barrels: "So, did you court Sir Anthony last night?"
New college chick who can't believe she's stuck making barrels: "Uhhhhh, you mean Tony? Yeah, we went to Burger King."
Lady: "Ahhhhhh you meaneth the royal pub of sandwiches."
College Chick: "Uhhhhh, yeah, whatevereth."
Along with assuming a historical identity and wearing uncomfortable wool clothing, these fine folks are doing serious manual labor (making bricks, hauling water, splitting wood) all while dealing with a constant stream of annoying tourists and their questions.
This poor schmuck that pulled Oxen duty was not a fan of the muddy day. He had to walk his Oxen to market come rain or shine in order to get to the goods delivered and avoid the gallows. Colonial summer bummer!
We took our muddy munchkins to jail... because we didn't want them anymore once they were dirty.
Next up, the barrel and bucket making station, where Andrew enjoyed putting buckets on his head as they got smaller and smaller. During this process, Mark's concerns about how he was going to dislodge a well-made, authentic wooden bucket from his son's noggin' grew larger and larger.