Oh, did we have a big day yesterday and not just because it was the season premiere of Tori & Dean: Home Sweet Hollywood. Although really? What else could I have possibly wanted to make my quest for the perfect day complete?
Not that I was really on the quest for a perfect day because what are the odds that a day will come when I am able to watch a marathon of Real Housewives of NY while eating chips and queso in bed and not gain even a single pound?
So about a month ago, P mentioned that it was time for another helicopter hunt and he asked Caroline if she wanted to go with him. And she has spent the last thirty days telling anyone who will listen that she is going to ride in a helicopter. She’s also spent the last thirty days waking up first thing in the morning and asking in a voice not fit for 6:30 a.m., “IS TODAY THE DAY I’M FLYING IN THE HELICOPTER WITH DADDY?”
P also asked me if I’d like to go up in the helicopter but my response was slightly less enthusiastic than Caroline’s. I believe my exact words were “I wouldn’t go up in that helicopter if Jesus were the pilot”. Which I guess means I’ll never have one of those bumper stickers on the back of my car declaring that God is my co-pilot. And for that I believe that God and I are both very grateful.
But I did want to go down to the ranch and experience the whole thing. I just wanted to do it on the ground where sane people like to stay. And also people who made the mistake of underestimating their fear of heights at the Rodeo Carnival and walked around feeling seasick for three hours after deciding it was a good idea to ride the Tower of Doom.
However, I am a strong believer in not passing down my fears and phobias and general oddities to my child. It’s why I’ve spent the last six years trying to act like carnival workers and people who are double-jointed don’t completely freak me out. And why I force myself to occasionally play something on my iPod besides Kenny Rogers’ Greatest Hits.
Ruby, don’t take your love to town.
Sure enough, we arrived at the ranch and there was a real live helicopter. With a propellor and everything. I felt a little bit like I just stepped on to the set of The Bachelor because they do love them some helicopters.
(I believe this post may serve as confirmation that I am addicted to reality television. If I mention Flava Flav, feel free to stage an intervention.)
P and Caroline walked up to where the helicopter had landed. Notice their matching safety orange shirts.
They surveyed the situation.
They climbed into the helicopter. I began to pray without ceasing.
What? They get to wear headsets? I would have totally considered doing it if I’d known there were headsets involved.
Truthfully, the headsets wouldn’t have made any difference because a chicken can’t change her spots or her feathers or whatever. (I’m resisting the urge to say I’m the coward of the county but everything comes back to Kenny sooner or later.)
And they’re off. Flying high upon the wings of love.
I spent the next ten minutes experiencing mild to moderate nausea until they were safely back on the ground. Judging from the look on Caroline’s face, I think it may go down as the highlight of her six and a half years.
After the hunt was over and we all ate some lunch, we hopped into my granite countertops and Caroline drove us around the ranch.
The wildflowers are truly unbelievable. There are only about three weeks a year when South Texas is this beautiful so I took about a hundred pictures to document it. (And, yes, I’m still experimenting with iPhoto apps.)
I asked Caroline if she wanted to change into the pretty pink dress I’d brought along so we could take some pictures in the flowers. She looked at me and said, “NO WAY, JOSE.”
So I’ll just have to treasure these precious memories of her in an oversized safety orange t-shirt.
After our wildflower safari, Caroline had a little target practice. There are three less water bottles in the world courtesy of her superior marksmanship.
And then it was time to go home. Even though she wasn’t tired AT ALL. NOT EVEN A LITTLE BIT TIRED.
Or maybe just a little.