Mine was "Tommy Dog", hers was "Bandit". It started out as a great idea. A mother/daughter event that we would cherish forever, an event that would help us to bond and appreciate our surroundings. The mountains are beautiful here in Arizona. The wildlife everywhere. Sunsets are magnificent and you never know what you'll see. I would consider myself in fairly good shape. I'm an adventurous person, who enjoys spontaneity and trying new things. I'm that person who never backs down from a challenge or believes in that "it can't be done" attitude.
This morning, while my precious daughter was still sleeping, I had an idea. I made the call, booked the appointment. Then, I woke her up to tell her! She was less than enthusiastic, but tried not to let it show. She knew this was a big deal for me. Secretly, she was interested, but she's 15, so she can't show it. It's in the teenage rule book, of which she knows by heart.
We arrived 5 minutes early. I paid the bill. It was time. They asked a few questions and based on our answers, selected the perfect choice for us. We were starting to get nervous. Ok, it's going to be fine. This is safe. A beautiful afternoon, with great scenery and excellent weather. This was going to be great! We are about to create memories that will last a lifetime!
Well, we were right and we were wrong. Our Mommy/Daughter Adventure didn't turn out quite as I'd expected it to. For one thing, I can't walk. My daughter hasn't stopped complaining about how sore she is and has sworn off these kinds of outings forever. She refuses to participate ever again, not just with me, but her future husband, best friend or anybody else who asks. Her exact words, "Mommy, I'm not a country girl, I'm a city girl. Screw that country, cowgirl thing. Never again."
Yes, their names were "Tommy Boy" and "Bandit", or as my daughter affectionately calls them, "Demons".
And, we made a memory alright. We've got the bruises to prove it.
No comments:
Post a Comment