Playing Dad
Three Christmas week bombs in a row now. I’m beginning to not like this holiday very much.
One of my first orders of business was to collect a few foods that might be needed later in the day, such as knock-off Saltines and sparkling Perrier. Also, new toothbrushes and toothpaste. I don’t fool around with bug germs; nasty things. Although I must admit that often their bark is worse than their bite.
Anyway, out into the early morning. A heavy mist had settled, even in the sunshine. Crusty frost, and thick.
Walking through the store with a heavy arm basket filled with other foods to distract the checker from the real reason I was there – I don’t like fan-faring to the world that I’ve got a “sickie” at home – I could hear two male college-aged stockers talking behind me in the aisle.
“Did you see all that fog this morning?”
“Dude, yeah. I just wanted to chase it into the woods.”
“Dude, I love fog.”
On that note, I returned to find El Oso still nursing a bad stomachache, but at least nine hours removed from the “yuck” of the middle of the night.
So, it was my job to play “dad” for the day. Who am I kidding – I love taking Puck rock hunting just as much as El Oso does. We walked the cold, cold woods through muddy trails along the creek, collecting a few – very heavy – rock-fossil specimens for Puck’s collection. It was so quiet, we didn’t hear the female jogger come running up behind us.
“WAAAAH!” Puck yelled in terror.
She thought it was pretty funny.
He recovered immediately and chuckled, “ That scared the wits out of me. Come on, Mom, let’s cross that log over there. I’m the path extraordinaire!”
We continued our journey through the underbrush, and tugging thorns.
“Puck, do you want these rocks?”
“Yes. You can hold on to them. I’m dealing with a rose bush right now.”
Then he slipped big-time in the mud by the creek. At least he avoided the creek. Coat, pants, and Chucks – plastered. We walked around longer to let the grass and brush help out the situation a little. Then it was time to hike back up the hill.
“I’M THE CLIMBER EXTRAORDINAIRE! JUST FOLLOW ME, MOM!”
So I did.
He threw himself onto the asphalt trail in dramatic fashion when we reached the top.
“Come on, bud. Let’s get back to the car.”
He grinned. “Just let me kiss the ground first.”
By evening, El Oso was feeling much better.