Sunday in the park

Are there words for a day as beautiful as today? But of course.

We packed a picnic lunch and headed to our local state park for a family hike. The thought was to tire both boys out, but it turns out that Jacob is a terrible hiker. He refuses to walk when we're on trails because his serious Rock-Hound-Itis means he can't stop stooping over to pick up any kind of rocks, pebbles, or gravel. Isaac, on the other hand, is a champ. With Jacob packed in the stroller, we chose to hike up this gawd awful high and long hill road. Isaac did the whole thing without stopping once (and usually while running), though as we neared the top he told me that "Mountains can be hard for little boys to climb." A different kind of mountain awaited us at the top, one to please both fellers.



Jacob was not remotely interested in climbing to the top of the gravel mountain. There were simply too many rocks to pick up down at the bottom. Isaac picked up some, too, and carried them in his hands down the "mountain" to throw into the creek. Along the way, we spotted a pretty butterfly and suggested Isaac try to catch it. Without really thinking, he threw a rock at it. Dada and I told him that was bad, and so he tried to catch the butterfly instead. After we started walking again, he walked beside me and I decided maybe the rock-throwing topic needed more discussion. I launched into a little diatribe on how one should not throw rocks at animals or people, but by the end of my speech I looked over at him and registered that he was not listening. "Isaac, do you understand?" I finished, catching him a little off guard. He looked up at me suddenly, as though realizing I was talking for the first time, and said, "No, Mommy. I don't understand. Sometimes little boys don't understand why they do things."

Eventually we tore ourselves away from this beautiful park on this beautiful day, after throwing rocks off a bridge, running barefoot across clover fields, and burying our feet in the sand of a horseshoe pitch. But before we left, I remembered how Meemaw yells at me because we never take family pictures. Be happy now, Meemaw.



Featured in this picture are our sons Surly Burger (left), who wishes not to go home, and Heeeeeeeeere's Jakey (right), who intends to poke you to death with his fearsome stick.