I’m hopelessly addicted to geocaching these days. And since I have an extremely addictive personality, that means I need to indulge in my new hobby whenever humanly possible.
So last night I was all prepared to go find a few local caches and I was impatiently waiting for MJ to get home from work. I had Will and the dog all ready to go, all she had to do was change her clothes. Well wouldn’t you know it, the minute she walks in the door it starts thundering and lightning like a mofo. I, of course, still wanted to go out amidst the bolt lightning piercing the sky like a dagger. But thankfully MJ was there to remind me that baby + lightning = charring.
So even though geocaching is supposed to be the thing MJ and I do together, as soon as she left for work I got Will dressed and lined up two caches I wanted to hunt. The weather was gorgeous, Will was in a good mood and so I fired up the GPS and hit the trails.
I picked two easy finds, knowing I’d have to carry Will the whole way because the stroller would’ve been useless on these wooded trails. Now keep in mind, I’m new at this. I get all excited when the GPS starts pointing the way to the treasure and I excitedly bound off in whatever direction it points me in, kind of like a hyper labrador.
Eventually I came to a fork in the road. The only problem was the GPS was pointing me straight ahead about 500 feet. Now it’s at this point I should’ve remembered that most cachers hide their loot not too far from the path, because who wants to go bushwacking through prickers and poison ivy? But since I lack common sense, I figured the fastest way to get where I was going was straight.
Straight through the trees. Straight through the branches. Straight through the pricker bushes. All the while carrying my son who was getting eaten by mosquitoes.
I quickly realized that I should’ve stayed on the path. But Will wasn’t too fussy (he actually seemed to be enjoying it) and I’m stubborn, so I forged ahead. Finally I saw the path I needed. As I trudged the final few steps through the underbrush, my foot caught on a root and I knew I was about to fall. Instinctively I held Will up as high as I could to shield him from any danger. Although I was mostly successful in this attempt, he did get cut by one solitary pricker and he started bleeding a little from his right leg.
I expected him to wail both from the shock of falling down in dad’s arms and from the sting of the pricker. But instead he just looked at me like “Dude, what was that all about?” I smiled at him, wiped the blood from his leg and we carried on as if nothing happened.
We found two caches in less than 25 minutes, but more importantly my little man showed his toughness. So he fell (ok, ok, so I fell!)? So he was cut? So he bled a little? Big deal! Will falls all the time because I let him tumble (as long as he’s not going to be seriously hurt) to teach him a lesson. And he learns it fast. I’m so proud of him because he doesn’t wail like most kids his age if they fall down or whack their head. He just gets up, dusts himself off and carries on.
Just like his mother!