Today’s my Friday. I decided to take an entire day to just sit around tomorrow after my dawn doctor’s appointment. Or go visit house models and try to pin down what we want to buy. Or just watch Big Bang Theory and read my Kindle.

Lola has decided to climb mount St. Helen’s this weekend.

Our conversation was a bit loopy since it also involved the Littles.

Lola: Mommybeast, let’s climb up that mountain that Daddybeast went to with his mom.

Me: Mount Rainier?

Lola: No, the other one. Why would I want to go to a mountain that is full of rain???

Me: I don’t know why. Guess I wasn’t thinking. (insert my massive eye rolling here)

Little: Oh, let’s do that as a field trip. I bet we could walk up it with you now that we’re bigger.

Lola: Great idea! You can hold my leash and I’ll drag you should you need it. Like one of those dogs who pull the people in the places that are filled with white.

Me: You mean snow? Wait, what are we talking about? Mt. Saint Helen’s is huge, no one in this house is going to climb that thing. We’d pass out just looking at the path. If there even is a path!

Lola: Seriously Mommybeast, it isn’t that big. It’s very small, I can tell as we drive on the highway.

Little: Wait a minute. Are you saying that we are too clumsy to climb the mountain? I mean, we did conquer the art of walking on wood chips at the rock park!

So the Little and Lola continue this bizarre conversation while I plan the reality of the trip to see the “tiny” mountain. I’ll take the SUV (go Ford!) and make sure there is gas. Pack a bowl of water and some food for the chunky bulldog who thinks she can climb mountains. I’ll even bring her jacket in case it gets nippy.

Then when we get there I’ll set her free and watch as she takes two steps total….back to the open car door to be driven up the mountain.

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2 replies on “The weekend arrives…

    1. Neither of you have a shot. You’ll just make yourselves tired. And hungry. Just sit in the air conditioned car and eat a snack while I drive you both up the mountain. Lola called Twinkies. And shotgun. Dang, mom, you got screwed by your own grand puppy.

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