Kids Say the Darndest Things

A couple days ago I packed up all four of the kids, one red wagon, and as much forearm strength as I could muster, and headed to the park for a lap around the 1.4 mile track. My goal was to get some outdoor exercise before the day's temperature reached it's 90-something peak, and help the kids burn off some of their energy before they reached their usual midday energy-suppressed Bounce Off The Playroom Walls peak.
It was a beautiful morning, and this was going to be a great walk! I pointed out geese and wildflowers, and the landscapers waved to us from their tractors and passersby remarked on how beautiful all the kids were and I agreed with and thanked them all. We'd started off with both girls in the wagon, and the boys running a short distance ahead. But at each of the exercise stations scattered along the trail, I'd stop and let them all do jumping jacks, push-ups or stretches and change a girl out for a boy to make sure everyone had a turn running and riding. To make sure I got my exercise in, I'd occasionally break into a run, pulling the wagon behind me, trying to 'catch' whichever two were loose on the trail. They'd giggle euphorically, and laughing, I'd gun 'em down each time. Then about halfway around, they all four piled into the wagon, begging me to "run, Mama!". I was wearing down a bit, but with just a quarter mile left thought, "seeing two delighted faces in the wagon had been so much fun, imagine what four would look like!" I ran with them for about 30 feet, and then slowed down panting and sweating. The day was heating up, and I was starting to feel a bit frazzled too. It had started off to be a fun walk, but now I was sopping and itchy and my sunglasses wouldn't stay perched on my sweaty nose, and the kids (who were enjoying a free ride, mind you) were starting to whine about my not running, and could we please go to the store and buy some pears because we don't have pears at our house, and I'm so hungry, Mama, SO HUNGRY, please can we have a snack, why aren't you running, RUN Mama, I need a drink and some pears, Mama.
And the wagon that had started out as such a great idea was making my arm go numb and my shoulder muscle feel strained. As I pulled up to our van and opened the door, I sent the boys in first, ordering them to get in quickly, so I could get the girls in quickly, get the A/C on and get home. But Aaron turned around in the doorway and was saying, "I need to tell you something, Mama" about once every millisecond, and I was trying to get the baby up and keep Ethan from running off, and barked out, "No you may not! Get in your seat now!" But for whatever reason, he stood his ground and asked again, "please, can I tell you something, Mama?" Exasperated, sweating, holding the baby mid-air beneath her arms, I sighed out, "Yes, yes, yes Aaron, what do you have to say that is so important it can't wait?".

"Thank you so much for bringing us to the park today, Mama!"

And just like that, I was smiling again.