I had an opportunity to visit the Grand Canyon today. I went alongside my fourth grader who’d asked me to be a chaperone on the journey. It was fun, overall. Towards the end of the day I had nearly two hours to spend with the four boys under my charge. Until then it had been a lot of soul searching and seeking patience, but as we drifted into the trees and our adventure began, all of that stress bled out of me.
The first part of the day was rather structured and involved me saying ‘No!’ quite a bit. Recently she-who-makes-me-whole pointed out that I might be ‘that dad’. We all know him, the one you always look down and away from as he screams at his kids any time they step just a tad out of line. I suppose I might be that dad. I’m that dad in public at least, when these boys know they ought to act right and occasionally don’t. Heck, i’m that dad to everyone’s kids because I believe it takes a village to raise a child. So, yeah. I call out my kids publicly and did so with my four who did tend to act the very fool of which I speak. They would saunter super close to the edge of the canyon after the teacher and ranger both repeatedly warned them not to. Food was discarded haphazardly. Rocks were eventually dug up. In other words, they were boys trying to be boys.
Once we were done with the canyon proper we headed into the woods for a walk to the lodge where dinner was planned. We turned it into an adventure, walking into thickets of trees so deep that multiple kids were like, ‘I’ve never seen real woods before’ and ‘I know we’re lost because I can’t see the road!’ Yep, they were in the deepest patch of wilderness most of them had ever known and it was totally fun. We picked up sticks and called them hiking sticks, we looked for animals, and we walked and walked and walked.
Deep down inside I’m a twelve year old. That isn’t always a good thing, but sometimes it is just what you need to find an adventure.