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A Sordid Tale of When One Loses More Than Just One’s Mind

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When my son Bode was little (33-pounds to be exact) I loved going for bike rides with him in his bike trailer.

It was one of those delightful early summer days 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 then-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.”



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.

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  • comment avatar Terra May 11, 2009

    Well you could go….just duck tape the shoes on first!!

  • comment avatar Amber Johnson May 11, 2009

    Rest assured, we WILL go again. Just never in his Crocs. 🙂

  • comment avatar Lori in Denver May 11, 2009

    Losing a cwoc would make me cwy as well.

  • comment avatar Amber Johnson May 11, 2009

    I seriously cannot say my “r”s and “l”s around him. They way he says it is much cuter. 🙂

  • comment avatar Kagey May 11, 2009

    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!

  • comment avatar Kari May 11, 2009

    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!

  • comment avatar Kari May 11, 2009

    ..though WALKING through the mall doesn’t have anything on your adventure.

  • comment avatar Kimberly May 11, 2009

    Well…you’re that much closer to the swimsuit?

    No. “Ouch” is a better response . . .

  • comment avatar Amber Johnson May 11, 2009

    Ouch it is. 🙂

  • comment avatar Patti Jo Medina May 11, 2009

    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!

  • comment avatar One Mom's Opinion May 11, 2009

    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.

  • comment avatar Lauri May 11, 2009

    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

  • comment avatar Amber Johnson May 12, 2009

    Ahhh yes. The Hill. Lauri used to live on it with me. Nothing like having a partner in pain. 🙂

  • comment avatar Claudia from Denver Cereal May 12, 2009

    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 (

  • comment avatar Mama Bird May 15, 2009

    I’m just still trying to get past point #1!

  • comment avatar JoAnn, The Casual Perfectionist May 16, 2009

    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!! 😉