Last Tuesday, Jean and I attended a special dinner engagement here in Colorado Springs. It was one of those gala events that required us to leave our boys with a sitter for the evening. Like most parents, we have a touch of apprehension about leaving our high-energy boys for several hours in the care of another person. And yet, taking comfort from the fact they were in good hands with this particular sitter, we kissed them goodbye and headed out the door.
Like many dads, I’m always on the lookout for fun, creative ways to bond with my kids something I rarely experienced with my own father. However, this particular “great idea” backfired big time.
I had just dropped off my wife Jean at the Denver airport and was returning home with the boys when a stroke of inspiration struck me like a freight train. Come to think of it, a southbound train adjacent to the interstate sparked the idea.
I’ve been known to do a few wild and crazy things in my lifetime. This summer was no exception. Eight middle-aged guys – including me – swapped our suits and ties for leather duds and boots and then hit the road on Harleys. No agenda, just three days of the open road rolling out in front of us.
We followed the Arkansas River up into the Colorado Rockies on a two lane stretch of asphalt that snaked its way through the mountainside.
Over the weekend, I took the boys for a treat. They helped me in the yard and they were thirsty. We popped into a coffee place. The boys, ages six and four, love cold vanilla milk with whipped cream. As we’re getting out of the car, my oldest says, “My hand is stuck in my pocket!” I looked over, and sure enough he seemingly could not remove his hand from his pocket. I said, “Why can’t you pull your hand out?”
Still sitting in the van, he explained how he put some chocolate in his pocket a few days before.