The Businessman decided it was high time we took a family hike (he used the term 'deathmarch'). Even though I'm not an outdoor girl, I don't necessarily object to hiking. Unless it's 6:30 AM on a Sunday and I'm expected to be ready and there's a severe shortage of energy drinks:
The kids didn't seem to care for the idea either. They at least got to sleep in until 7:00.
It figures. The one day they sleep in.
TBM asked me to make sure the shoes were in the car and I find this:
This tells me he is taking this hike seriously. That's a lot of gear. That quantity of gear implies expectations. Those expectations seem to have forgotten a few things. Like the age of our children, my desire to knit, and the fact that his back is so screwed up right now he is seeing a chiropractor.
A month ago, he would have told you chiropractors are nutjobs.
But it seems the kids had a good time.
The Businessman is still trying to work out the math. 2 hours driving. 3 hours hiking. Total distance hiked: 1.8 miles.
I actually hiked 2.8 miles because Vish decided 1/2 mile in that he needed to go potty. I schlepped him back to the trailhead where he announced he didn't have to go after all. I refused to get him back on the trail until there was some action. He cried. He screamed.
He remembered daddy had the trail mix.
What I Made:
Nary a complaint, whine, or I told you so.
That's one miracle of the requisite three for sainthood.

