Have you read Cormac McCarthy’s depressing opus, The Road? Have you lived it? Today, I attempted to take the kids through a “short cut” through Franklin Park on the way back from the zoo. We ended up getting lost, which is no surprise to anyone who knows me. [True story: I once used the map app to get directions to a place that was 0.3 miles from where I was standing, although in my defense, I did not know that at the time.] George’s legs were tired (fair) but when I told him that if he didn’t stop whining, he wouldn’t get any ice cream later, he commenced a two-mile traveling temper tantrum (not fair). He sobbed like a telenovela star, crying, “I want iccccccce creammmmmm” for 50 minutes straight, as I dragged his deadweight further and further into what turned out to be an endless spiral further into the woods. Later, I had to give him a piggyback ride, with my backpack holding our water bottles, lunch cooler, and camera worn as a frontpack, and my phone at 13%. The Road would’ve been a welcome respite.

Anyway, before that, we had a good morning.

We successfully walked a mile, which is a lot for little legs, so props to the kids for the first leg of our journey. Those who followed us last year know that the zoo is our go-to, and we have our usual activities there: gorilla watching, budgie feeding, 51¢ penny-making, and the kids’ favorite attraction: the playground.

George and I tried to recreate our epic budgie moment from last year, but it just didn’t happen. I guess we’re just more photogenic this year.

Tomorrow, we’re meeting the Maries at the Museum of Science. Let us pray our journey is a more peaceful one.