A Sordid Tale of When One Loses More Than Just One’s Mind
It’s the second worst time of the year. For those not in the know:
#1 = Bathing suit season.
#2 = Suffering through multiple exercise routines as you repent of all those comfort foods you packed on during winter so you can fit into that bathing suit.
As part of my repentance process, I decided to take 33-pound Bode on our first ride of the season in his bike trailer last week. (Sure, I could have rounded his weight down to 30. But I want you to feel Every. Last. Pound. Just as I did.)
It was one of those delightful Spring days last week and we started strong. Translation: we went downhill. My house is perched atop a hill that takes me about two minutes to ascend on my bike, 20 minutes when pulling Bode and about 2 hours with my 40-pound daughter Hadley added to the mix.
There was a good reason I chose to do the ride when she was still in preschool.
Bode and I have a regular route through a nearby Open Space park. We often pass “Swiper” the Fox by a footbridge, “Daffy” Duck paddling in the pond and if we’re lucky, we’ll spot “Wile E.” Coyote perched under his favorite shade tree.
Our animal nomenclature is commercialization at its best.
That day, we were delighted to encounter many of our favorite animals as we cruised along the undulating landscape and marveled at the profusion of wildflowers starting to explode. All was going well–blissful, even–until our ascent up The Great Hill.
It was a warm day and I realized I wasn’t the only one who packed on a few pounds during winter. Turns out, Bode may not be fitting into his swim trunks anytime soon, either. We slowly crawled up the hill and upon reaching the apex, I encountered my neighbors and gasped, “First ride of the season but we did it and….”
Then came Bode’s interruption.
“I wost my Cwoc.”
“What? YOU LOST YOUR CROC? WHERE?”
“Dunno!”
I dubiously stared at him, hoping this was a 2-year-old’s idea of a sick joke. It wasn’t.
I had a few options. 1) Write off the $30 Croc as one of the many casualties of life. 2) Drag Bode back on the recalcitrant route. 3) Detach the bike trailer, dump him off with our neighbors and try to find the Croc by myself.
I chose #3. Even though it was the best of the three options, it wasn’t pretty. I was exhausted and going on a Croc Rescue Mission was the last thing I wanted to do. Worst of all? The Croc was tan-colored, not a delightful fluorescent that would have made it easily identifiable. After 30 loooong minutes, I found it perched atop another hill.
Because it would have been too easy for it to be nicely waiting for me at the bottom.
Bode was delighted to be reunited with his beloved Croc. He slipped it on his foot, gave me a charming grin and queried, “Go biking again, tomorrow?”
Didn’t happen.
Well you could go….just duck tape the shoes on first!!
Rest assured, we WILL go again. Just never in his Crocs.
Losing a cwoc would make me cwy as well.
I seriously cannot say my “r”s and “l”s around him. They way he says it is much cuter.
I’m always torn between emphasizing correct pronunciation and just enjoying the little quirks they have right now.
And I totally would have taken option 3 as well. A Cwoc is not a thing to lightly toss away!
This just makes me laugh. How often have I had to retrace my steps through the mall because of a forgotten shoe or toy? I think moms everywhere can relate!
..though WALKING through the mall doesn’t have anything on your adventure.
Well…you’re that much closer to the swimsuit?
No. “Ouch” is a better response . . .
Ouch it is.
I think next time I would force him into some tennis shoes and tie them really, really tight!
We once lost Elijah’s beloved stocking cap on a walk. Abraham and I opted for just buying him a new one but Elijah wanted nothing to do with that. So on our next outing from the house, in a vehicle I had Abraham drive the route we took and I was able to spot it calmly waiting for us in the middle of the sidewalk.
By the way, not sure that it is that bright to buy a toddler a pair of $30 shoes, seeing as they will grow out of them at light speed. I make my dear children where cheap knockoff Crocs. While I of course have the real thing for myself. I love them! Best part of Arizona – getting to live in Crocs all year round!
You reminded me why I haven’t been on my mountain bike. My hubby just started biking regularly, but we now live in a neighborhood with hills. Hope you recover from the ride soon.
Hehehe! I know that damn hill you are talking about and it about killed me a time or two!
Glad you made the journey twice and lived to tell about it!
Kudos to you my friend Ü
Ahhh yes. The Hill. Lauri used to live on it with me. Nothing like having a partner in pain.
I have to bow to your stamina! I can so relate to being in that moment between winter comfort food and summer shape. I think I he would have lived with out a Croc.
Well done!
Claudia from Denver Cereal (http://denvercereal.com)
I’m just still trying to get past point #1!
It never fails that when we’re on a road trip, we see a random shoe on the side of the road.
And, now we know why!!