Spring was in the air yesterday. It was a whopping 48 degrees outside–48!–and most of the snow had melted. I needed to get outside. And so did Audrey.
After much heated discussion, the two of us decided to pay a visit to Battle Road, part of the Minuteman National Historical Park. “The Shot Heard Round the World” hails from this pristine locale, along with Paul Revere’s ride. It’s also a nice place for a walk. There are no cars, the scenery is more than pleasant, and the people are attractive and friendly. Less poops to dodge too. Battle Road is about 5 miles long, so round trip it takes about 10 to complete. I’ve walked it a number of times and was anxious to get another one underway. So we went!
And made it three-tenths of a mile in 2 hours.
This is why. Baby butt. Audrey loves rocks–I mean, REALLY loves rocks–and I had neglected to remember that Battle Road is not so much an actual road, but really more of a gravelly path. In other words I had basically laid out a 10 mile long path for her, comprised of billions of tiny little rocks. All of which were endlessly fascinating.
HER: “Daddy! Rock!”
ME: “Oh yeah?”
Then, 23 seconds later:
HER: “Look daddy! Rock daddy! Rock!”
It doesn’t come through in the writing, but I was really trying to sound as interested as possible with those “Oh yeah?”s and “Wow…”s. But it’s hard to muster up much excitement about rocks, especially every 23 seconds. But rocks weren’t the only item of interest out there yesterday. Oh no, there were sticks too!
That there is a stump with a rotted out center, full of dirt and earthy muck. Add a short, strong stick to the mix and you have yourself a party, friend. I mean, you can jam it in there, stir it around, flick dirt balls into the air, explore even dirtier, darker depths of tree stump goodness…what’s not to like? The whole time–15 minutes, I might add–I’m watching her hands, face, coat sleeves, and brand new shoes get absolutely covered in mud. Oops. Hadn’t taken that into account either. But I must admit there was something manly about letting my daughter get all muddy and gross. Something along the lines of…
My wife would never let her do this.
Nope. Probably not.
Behold history! This is the location of Paul Revere’s capture by the British! It’s a landmark of America’s birth as a nation! It’s like super, super important!
But there weren’t any rocks there.
Some rocks over here though!
Oh yeah. Good ones.
Did you know you could throw rocks too? AMAZING.
Here’s a particularly wet and muddy place to play sticky-muddy. Let’s camp out here for a while.
“Momma would never let me do this.”
Oh good. Here’s the part where she abandoned the sticks for her hands. What’s especially nice is that her fingernails need to be clipped, and those sharp little buggers can dig out an awful lot of dirt and muck. Filth and grime that sticks to everything. Like cheeks, mouths, jackets, shoes…
But the best part of slimy muck is not that it just sticks to those things…
It’s that it sticks to Daddy too!