Papa Bo (my grandpa) generously gave us his timeshare in Branson, MO, which we took advantage of in mid-December. We had never been before and weren't sure what to expect. Our parents, and all of their pals, gave us high hopes. When our 20 and 30 something friends heard we were going to Branson for three days, they all cried "BUT WHY?!" We were torn...not sure what Branson would bring.
I did a bit of research before departure (remember, I'm a geography nerd), and booked tickets for our first adventure Friday night. Polar Express here we come! We had never read the book, but my kindergarten teaching sister reads it to her class every year and has said that it's a favorite. And, on the Polar Express, Henry would get to wear his pj's, meet Santa for the first time, and be treated with hot chocolate and cookies. What more could you ask for?
Anxiously awaiting to board.
The train that had been converted into the Polar Express was a train used for scenic tours of Branson during tourist season. Henry and Wade were about to embark on their first train ride...or so we thought. Little did we know that the Polar Express never ventured more than two miles from the train depot. We'd go down the track a couple of miles, then back to the depot, and then up the track two miles...back and forth, back and forth...for 1 hour. We visited the North Pole three times before we stopped to pick up Santa.
Mom, I think I'm having Déjà vu...haven't we passed this parking lot before?
Finally warm and hopeful that we'll pick up Santa the next time we pass the North Pole.
Santa or no Santa, Henry enjoyed riding in a moving vehicle without being strapped to a car seat.
Finally, we stopped to let Santa board.
Henry, perplexed with the funny looking bearded man.
Thanks for the jingle bell, Santa. Henry shook it all the way home.