The stomach bug struck at our house.
Which meant we had to stay home.
Only it didn't last long.
And we were free to roam.
We hit up the park where we could run and play (and avoid sharing germs).
We avoided crowded playgrounds and just wandered.
The Perfect Sick Day
The kinda day where you see a field and just take off running.
and you taste a sweet victory
or maybe a little bitterness from defeat.
The kind of day where you take a wagon along
simply because you'll need a place to carry your sticks.
My three stick hunters nearly filled a wagon with treasures of bark.
Like ones that would be just right for an elephant nose
Or huge ones they could use to practice their heavy lifting or balance beam routines.
Or ones that could be turned into magical wands, perfect for stirring the musty waters of an enchanted creek.
They watched closely for signs of wild-life
frogs or turtles or fish
And one mini-member of the expedition practiced his hiking (while snacking) skills
(add "shoes optional" to the list of fourth-child-woes)
They challenged the theories behind
"If your brother jumped off a bridge..."
And learned that in all situations a little push behind your pull goes a long way.
They learned that exploring together just a few steps off the beaten path
can open up grand adventures
and that after a long day of stick-hunting you've got to decide just how badly you really want to make it home with your heavy haul.
Even if I did have to clean-up vomit to earn this day-
I wouldn't trade it for the world.
Because I know that school is around the corner-
and no matter how amazing their teachers may be,
there are some things you just learn best while stick hunting.
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