I asked the day before where she’d like to go for a Saturday outing. “The river.” I liked her choice, though if you know Brenna, you won’t be surprised to learn the simple idea turned into a plan with detailed requirements.
I asked the day before where she’d like to go for a Saturday outing. “The river.” I liked her choice, though if you know Brenna, you won’t be surprised to learn the simple idea turned into a plan with detailed requirements.
I had to renew my commitment to getting the bikes down and loaded for our trip several times as we ran a few Saturday morning errands. This would be the first time she’d ride her own bike to the river.
I suggested she was probably okay riding her small bike even in the “walking only” section. But of course not. Only babies would do that. She had to park the big bike.
This was the exact location at which the other pumpkin needed to be carved.
“Remember what I told you to tell mom if you stab yourself?” (That’s a joke there.)
Brenna was excited to see I’d led us to the correct spot. I asked her to commit to keeping it our secret.
These u-pick pumpkins are extra-juicy. “It’s bleeding!” Brenna exclaimed as she cut into it.
How we’ve missed thee.
One of the ride details she formulated was that we should carve pumpkins at the river. The only reason I pulled the trailer was to haul her pumpkins (and a little beer). Oh, and you want to carve it yourself with a real knife? … suuuure. Mom’s not here.
Several large mushrooms had pushed up in funny juxtaposition with the loose sand. Brenna picked this one so I mounted it on a stump as a warning to fungi everywhere.
And some rocks.
It wasn’t enough to carve the pumpkins. We had to play with them. Yeah, that’s them over there, having a nap.
“I really love this moss,” she told me. Me too, Brenna.
She found feathers from big birds and small birds, freed many milkweed seeds to float in the breeze, and generally kept us to an appropriate Saturday, five-year-old pace.
Brenna saw me photographing a mushroom and volunteered to clean them for me. She seemed pretty serious about it so I let her have at it.
She was pretty excited to sit on some motorcycles her size this morning. “I can ride it,” she insisted.
“No,” I answered, “I think you need to learn to ride your bike first.”
As soon as we got home from the river, she put on Hunter’s motorcycle gear, had me take off her training wheels and rode.
“Can I get that green motorcycle now?”
by Jason Abbott