It was nice.
They scratched my back for a couple hours.
The dealio is that if they want me to tell them stories (and they so want me to tell them stories, it's their favorite thing), then they have to scratch my back.
Or play with my hair. Or rub my feet.
The entire time.
If they stop, I stop. It's an even trade.
So this morning I was like, I have a surprise for you guys. We're gonna go somewhere special.
And they were like, Yay! Probably you'll take us to McDonald's! Or buy us all new Barbies from Walmart! Or to a movie! Or to buy solid gold and diamond earrings! Woohoo!
Which kinda deflated my happy surprise bubble since all I was planning to do with them was walk down the road and look at the waterfalls, which are raging ferociously with all the rain and runoff from the mountains.
(Our town was named after its founder, Mr. Frederick Post, and for the waterfalls down at the river.
Welcome to Post Falls, Idaho. The falls are beautiful, and the river lovely. I'm glad to live near it.)
But we went to the river anyway... even if it didn't sound as incredible as a movie and countless Barbies.
The river is about a 5 minute walk from my house so we pulled on jackets and hats, and went walking.
Then it started to rain.
So then I was like, God? Please make it stop raining for about 15-20 minutes. Just for while we're walking?
It stopped raining.
Then Hannah looked at me in amazement, Wow, Aunt Sunny! You're really good with God!
We picked wildflowers on the way.
I put them in my house.
They're bright and pretty and make me happy.
Hannah and Lucy.
Then we went looking for the falls.
I found the trail.
We walked the trail, happily.
Found not the falls.
Left the trail and trekked around the woods like Lewis and Clark for the next half hour.
Climbed over fallen trees, climbed up the side of a mountain, looked north, west, south, east, and confused.
Realized we really needed Sacajawea.
So I called my friend Tina and said, Hey? So where'd the falls go? Who disappeared them? They were here the last time I saw them.
Turns out I was at the wrong place. Turns out the falls were about ten miles away on the other side of town. Turns out we had to walk back home, climb in the car, and drive to the falls. Turns out I'm not created for climbing up sides of mountains, makes my legs wobbly.
But it was okay. We had a good time being adventurers.
Girls. Now you know how it felt to be Lewis and Clark. Or Christopher Columbus. Or Neil Armstrong. Let this be a lesson to you.
The falls are so bay-u-ti-ful right now!
Rushing and loud. Misty and glorious. I love the mist.
The girls forgot all about Barbies and McDonald's.
My cell phone doesn't do it justice. They're gorgeous.
I was almost as impressed as I was when I went to Niagara Falls one time.
We saw baby geese. They were fuzzy. But the moma goose wouldn't let us pet them. She hissed at us.
We ran for dear life.
And there was a park.
I busted my chin on one of these bouncy duck thingys when I was five. One minute I was bouncing happily, then I bounced a little too hard, then I busted my chin open and bled out the majority of my life's blood. It was startling. Since then, I get a creepy, sinister feeling anytime I see one at a park. They look so fun and cheerful, but they hold the power to bleed you to death.
It was a smiley day, today was.
We liked it.