Friday night Steven and the kids picked me up from work and we went out to eat. While eating the kids noticed our close proximity to the park and started thinking back to all the fun that they had on other occasions when they had went with Loriell and Sissy.....
They pleaded with us to let them go.
And since it was Friday night, and despite the fact that it was 5 p.m. and 100 degrees outside, we went.
They had fun running around, up and down the playground equipment. Steven even moved once from his position in the shade to push the kids on the tire swing.
I, still being dressed in my black dress pants and high heels, decided that moving from the shade was not an option.
After arriving home, L and I jumped in the pool and enjoyed the time talking about girl stuff. Daddy came out to the pool and mentioned to me in hushed tones that he had contemplated taking L on a trail ride the next morning and wondered what I thought.
I knew that L had been asking her daddy to go on a trail ride all summer.
Almost every day.
There was no way I could say no.
So when Steven told her that he was going to take her on a trail ride, just less than an hour from our home and they would get up and leave just shortly after 5 a.m., she was over the moon with excitement.
Only few moments later she exited the pool, stating that she needed to get to bed and get a good nights sleep.
It was 7:00 p.m..
Although when they had spoke of going on a trail ride before, I imagined them travelling farther and camping overnight, L couldn't have cared less.
She didn't care where they went, just that they were going.
Isn't that like most kids?
It is us adults that tend to place high expectations on things. Kids are generally happy just to have the experience and the time spent with their parents.
In fact L was so excited about the experience that she was up at 4:30 a.m. just patiently waiting for the alarm to go off to wake her daddy. It was a weekend, after all, and Steven had been getting up and 3:30 to 4:00 a.m. all week and wanted to "sleep in" until 5.
However, once he got up it didn't take them long to get out the door.
I grabbed a couple of quick pictures before they left trying not to cringe because L was wearing jeans that were about 3 inches too short.
She didn't care. She wasn't going to make a fashion statement....she was going to have fun.
(And, like she, and B, told me a few days ago, "We don't live in New York City".)
She posed for me to take another shot or two and I purposefully cropped the bottom of her legs to avoid the obviousness of her too small clothing.
After the second shot or so, she felt like something was up. "Mama? Did you get my whole body and how I have my foot out like this? I think it looks cute."
And so, I went ahead, and took the whole shot. And it was cute.
And when you're wearing denim on denim, I am not sure anyone really notices your "too short jeans" anyway. Plus, it isn't like we live in New York City.
(Think Pace Picante Sauce commercial and hear, "New! York! City!")
I sent L with her camera and told her to make sure to get some shots for me.
And then I told her to be safe approximately 1000 times because she and her daddy are a pair.
A pair of risk takers.
And while I went back in the house and started my morning with visions of snakes causing the horses to spook, or a rare bear making itself known, or runaway horses, L and her daddy were having the time of their lives.
And they were eating.
Yes. Let's not forget eating.
L wanted to put to use her saddle bags that she got from Mi Mi and Pa Pa for her birthday and had brought them in the house for me to pack and while she and her daddy were getting the horses loaded.
Steven said they made it about 30 minutes into the ride before L decided it was time to stop and eat.
As a rule, the girl could care less about eating.
But eating is so much more fun when done on a trail ride and when you are eating food that you are carrying in your saddle bags.
Such an important responsibility....the carrying of the food.
I think that once they were done, and started loading up for the day, she had already started planning their next trip....as well as what food she would pack in her saddle bags.
I knew that B and I should take advantage of this time and go on a date of our own. B chose the location of our last date back in the spring and "took me" to Incredible Pizza.
This time, I chose the location.
I knew that he had been wanting to go to the nearby Route 66 museum.
You see, B loves all things "old-timey" and he especially loves Route 66, even sitting and watching documentaries about it on our local public television station.
This is probably not typical for a 6 year old, but it IS fitting for B.
When we walked through the doors he ran to a whitewall tire and said, "Momma, take a picture!" I was glad that I had stuck my small camera in my purse because I wouldn't have wanted to miss capturing the excitement that he had, running from one display to the next.
Around every corner he would say, "Look at that!" or "Look at this!". He read some of the information to me and other times I would read it to him.
He would always say..."Oh, I want one of those sometime...."
...and one of those.
After we left, we stopped by Subway to eat some sandwiches of our own since I failed to pack us any.
It was there in that Subway booth that we debated the qualities of old, antique man-powered push mowers and how he believed that they did a better job cutting the grass.
(I am not sure how he would know.)
(And, of course, he wanted one of those sometime too.)
That night we were all exhausted from our day's activities that we ordered pizza, rented a couple of movies and called it a night.
The next morning we went and ate breakfast at Mi Mi and Pa Pa's.....
and watched a Little House on the Prairie marathon.....
and took turns standing on our heads.....
(This is my 56 year old father.....)
(This is my 56 year old mother.....)
(L perfecting her stand...)
(And B doing a head twist (?) )
Your family doesn't do that?
I like to think that we keep the "fun" in dysfunctional.
Which is also why we capped off the night with another weenie roast in 100 degree temps.
"Fun", I tell you.
It's the name of the game.