The Peanut's daddy (who also celebrated his birthday yesterday like Papa Pea did) chose the route this year. It was one he had done before . . . when he was in his early 20s and single (i.e. no children). Ah-hem. Turns out the portage they had to make before gaining the lake that held their camp site was about 230-250 rods. That's about 3/4 of a mile . . . for a 3 1/2 year old! Apparently the Peanut came upon a nice, big tree trunk about 1/3 of the way through, sat down on it and REFUSED to budge. She was D-O-N-E portaging. So now, instead of portaging "just" the two canoes, paddles, and all the gear the group of 5 would need for the "vacation", they had to "portage" the Peanut as well! And it was HOT out.
Four trips back over the portage to all their gear and three trips back in to the lake that held their campsite, Daddy and Papa (Grandpa) were POOPED by the time they were finished. If anyone's counting, that's 5 1/4 miles of trekking over roots and stumps and trees, hauling something for 4 of those trips in high heat. And they hadn't even gotten to their camp site yet!
By the time all the gear was loaded back into the canoes and they'd all paddled to their destination, Papa had had it. He needed a cool-down swim: figuratively and literally.
At this point, the Peanut had been given the task of collecting wood for their fire. And, apparently it was a job she addressed VERY SERIOUSLY. She'd been at her job very industriously when she suddenly spied Papa out in the cool water.
Dropping the workload from her 3 1/2 year old arms, she exclaimed, "WHAT was I THINKING?!" She ran to the water's edge, STRIPPED herself of every single piece of clothing and jumped in after Papa.
Now THAT'S one for the baby book, don't you think? :)
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| Here's my most recent picture of the Peanut, taken last month. The scar is from a fall she'd taken, climbing off her high bed. She slipped, and one of her canines went through her lip when she connected with the bed frame! :( Good thing little kiddos are "rubbery" and repair easily! |
