In what can only be described as a moment of temporary insanity I suggested to Ang that we take the kids hiking in the Blue Ridge Mountains tomorrow.
Due to my awesome boss and his new "everybody gets a Saturday off each month and I'll sell for you when it's your day" I've got a three day weekend staring me in the face.
So tomorrow we're packing a cooler filled with hot dogs and juice boxes and heading roughly 2 hours north where we'll spend the day hiking the Appalachian Trail.
Nearly 40 years ago I was born in the foothills of these beautiful mountains and remember my Pop taking us hiking when I was about the same age as Rakes. So maybe it's nostalgia, or senility, but tomorrow I'm taking my 3 babies walking on the same trails my Dad took me on a long time ago.
Trot combined with Mother Nature and no safety net.
What could possibly go wrong?
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