My family was fractioned off this weekend and I got the kiddo part. I consider myself lucky.
A week in advance, I reserved my not-so-kiddo little brother for Saturday and we convened in the afternoon for a nearby cave tour.
First stop was an observation tower where, at the top, there was little circulation and we all sweated considerably.
It was so comfortable to just be together. We were a family unit of five with a picnic lunch, a kid in a stroller, and wild senses of humor. Yet, the quote of the day was not intentionally funny and was made by me.
We were walking along in the cave and there was a low spot, on which I hit my head for the third time on the tour.
I said: "Wow, I just hit my head."
Daniel said: "I heard it."
I replied: "I hit it so hard I saw black."
Micah said: "Yeah, we all did."
How was I supposed to know that at the exact moment I knocked my noggin, the lights would flash off and then on?
And then there are the very random cave conversations you overhear when you're crowded 14 stories down with 25 strangers. True to form, I took notes. The most notable was on our way out. A father was carrying his little girl as we passed a little drop-off.
"How 'bout we jump down there?"
Good idea, dad.
There was the family with a camel pack and a lifetime supply of Birkenstock sandals. The dad wore a T-shirt that said, "I love my wife." Seeing them so prepared made me feel like we were about to embark on an Indiana Jones-like adventure in which I would die. I would die because I was so unprepared I was wearing flip-flops.
There was a rock formation in the shape of a Rottweiler that we were supposed to believe was formed by dripping water and not tools. I called bullshit. The thing was totally carved.
Sarcasm aside, the tour was awesome and the company I had was better.
Best reservation I ever made.