Only a Little bit Late

I suppose I can't be blogging Christmas-y posts until I get the Thanksgiving post out of my system. And, I mean, not even Whitney has blogged about this yet (don't worry-I forgive). But I guess one of us has to do it. I'll take it on myself. So here you go. This is a lovely post about our trip to Kansas for the Thanksgiving break. I didn't take a ton of pictures. But I promise I'll only show the good ones.

Apparently, Georgia saw this picture and said,
"Grandpa!"
Can't you see the resemblance?

We got to go to Adam-Ondi-Ahman while were there.
It was super beautiful.
Like this picture doesn't give it justice...in my opinion.
We went on a really good post-thanksgiving-dinner walk.
This was at the Crown Center.
The day after Thanksgiving they have this huge ceremony to light up the tree.
Complete with lots of singing and boring speeches.
Not to worry-the fireworks made up for it.
Ezra really loved watching.
Can you blame him?
An awesome fountains with cool lights above it.
I know, so descriptive.
On the way back home (in the middle of our 19 hour and painfully long car ride)
we stopped in Colorado at
Little Man's Ice Cream.
They have the best ice cream I've ever tasted in my life.
And if you know me
you know that this is saying something.
P.S. I'm promise I'm not as fat as that coat makes me look

And, honestly, would this post even be worth it without
some pictures of my outrageously adorable nieces and nephew?
I don't think so.
For the record, I don't think I'll ever have children.
I don't think I can compete with Spencer and Whitney's freaking cute kids.
Really. I don't think my future husband (no matter how good looking he is going to be) and I have any hope.

And so that was the trip to Kansas for Thanksgiving. Since this doesn't fully explain our festivities, I'll give you one more story since my institute teacher told us that it's not really Thanksgiving without some holiday drama (Trust me, you'll want to stick around for this one).

Okay, so anyone who knows Isaac would understand that you can't always trust his dishes to leave you sober. So on Wednesday, as we were all in the kitchen throwing together as many baked goods as we could, we half jokingly asked Isaac how much alcohol he'd used so far.

"None," he replied. "I thought Kansas was a dry state."

Uh-huh. We definitely believed him on that one.

Later that night, when almost everyone had gone to bed, I went into the kitchen where a bowl full of mashed yams was sitting. I grabbed a drink (of water) as I watched Isaac slip out of the room he was staying in and back into the kitchen with a golden colored liquid in an innocent yellow IKEA cup. He poured the liquid into the yams and stirred it up.

My naive self thought: Hm. Apple cider flavored yams. That will be interesting.

Then my more sinful, SUU over BYU preferring self came out screaming: Oh my gosh, Kim! You're so dumb! That's alcohol! (mind you, I'm not fluent enough in the language of alcoholic beverages to know exactly what kind of alcohol it was.)

Now, like I said, Isaac's dishes have alcohol in them, but you usually can't taste it too much.

So the next day, as we sat down to eat, I wasn't too worried about it. And it turned out that Isaac had made 2 types of yams. The first one was pretty good. Almost your regular marshmallow cinnamon candied yams (with Isaac, it never is completely regular). But we all wanted to try the second one, one Isaac claimed was made with "Almond Extract." (Just so you guys know, I know what almond extract looks like, and that was definitely NOT almond extract...and who puts a full cup of almond extract in yams, or anything for that matter??)

And I will tell you, those "almond extract" yams burned the whole way down.

Heather described it as "inhaling hairspray."

It hurt.

Isaac swore (and still swears) there was no alcohol in the dish whatsoever.

Again. Uh-huh. We definitely believed him on that one.

But, for the record, the kids loved 'em.

Really. Couldn't get enough.