WOUNDED

In an effort to make more memories with my children, I ventured out of my box and went four-wheeling with the fellows.

You can't even begin to imagine my excitement at starting the day on a non seat belted craft, pre-plastered (craft and children) with mud from the previous day's ride.

Once we got out into the sunlight, traveling through some greenery, able to see for miles around, I thought that I might actually, but not terribly so very much after all if it's on trails and not too bumpy and not for very long or going very fast, like this.

Then Lane asked, "Do we have to stay on these boring trails the whole time? Can't we do something fun?"

"Yeah, " said Evan, in his composer's man voice.


"Yeah!" said Joshua, in his I'll-do-anything-Lane-wants-to-do/scare-me-to-death voice.


"Oh, yeah!" thought Michael, in his I-wish-I-were-filming-a-Polaris-commercial-right-now, but-I-can't-afford-to-scare-my-wife-yet inner head voice.

"Uh. Hasn't this been fun?" asked Keri, taking deep breaths. Very, gulp, deep breaths.
(Begin hyperventilation now.)

Apparently not so much fun.

So, up some hills we climbed. Very fast.
Over some huge rocks we crawled. Very bumpy.
Through piles of shale we crackled. Very exhilarating. For a boy.
And then it was time to come down.

Terrifying.

And, just so you know, my fears were not completely without merit.

We did make it down.
But not without tipping one of the machines over, directly onto my leg.

I was the only one hurt, and I'm just bruised and sore; thankfully, not broken. Also, not so sure about this whole memory making thing.

Something tells me reading a book might be safer.


P.S. The boys' favorite part of the weekend? Saturday with their dad and cousin, or Monday's hackey sack game with Grandpa. Figures.