When I was growing up, every once in a while, my parents made us decline playdates, skip sports practices, or avoid homework assignments for F.F.O.'s (Forced Family Outings). Participation was mandatory and there were definitely times that I was pretty unexcited to hang out with my family. This weekend, I put off grading labs, John avoided finishing a qualifying paper, and we let the lawn remain unmowed so that we could go on the first of many F.F.O.s with Cally. We packed up our camping gear and set out for the solitude of the mountains.
Cally isn't old enough to put up much of a fight. In fact, I don't think she really knew where she was going or what she was going to do. She does know about backpacks and loves to ride in one, but I'm not sure how keen she was on being stuck in one for several hours while being shwacked in the face with wet branches. Whatever is the case, Cally took to the backpacking like a fish to water. She talked/babbled for the entire hike up, ate well , and slept like a rock in the crowded two-person tent.
We almost canceled our FFO at the last minute because of a forecast for rain. Alas, we decided to go anyway. It did rain on us and it did make for a soggy dinner, but if it hadn't rained, we wouldn't have had a sunset like this:
The next morning we had a "Homer Simpson" breakfast of donuts and coffee before heading down the trail.
Cally even took a little snooze:
Even though I moaned and groaned about having to go on FFO's as a kid, I look back on them so fondly now. Hopefully, Cally will feel the same way.
