You must be bluffing...re-defining landforms in Connecticut

"Do you want to go for a walk," Savannah asked. I sighed inwardly. I did NOT drive seven hours without a doughnut, survive a possible terrorist attack, and navigate a 45 mph curve at 70 to WALK. I pulled my eyes away from her television. Married at First Sight was on. So delightful. So meaningful. Love as God intended. Well...if you know your bible...Leah was veiled. But I don't think Jacob was thrilled with being tricked with this near-sighted alternative so that DEFINITELY wasn't an example of love at first sight. But I bet he wasn't any prize either. What exactly did he have to brag about? "I'm really good at producing speckled sheep?" My...how the girls will swoon over his speckled sheep. But I digress.

I considered my options. If I didn't walk, she might make me tour the submarine museum again. There's a reason that it's FREE, Savannah. "Yeah, okay," I grumbled and we headed off to the Connecticut bluffs. "How long is this trail," I asked as I watched Savannah unceremoniously shove Sydney into swamp water. Twenty-four and twenty-one. My daughters in the middle of a trial with one in a head-lock and the other one yelling, "Mom!" "It's one mile," she finally answered. "Total?" I asked...suddenly alarmed by the silence that greeted me. "Mom...look! A horse," Savannah exclaimed, pointing. There was a horse! And it was wearing a hat! And it was playing in the water! We continued our journey. "Is it a mile one way," I asked. "Is that a jellyfish," Savannah said, crouching down. It was a jellyfish! I ran to get a stick. We made it to the bluffs. Let's get this out of the way, right now. I was raised in the whirling rapids of Letchworth State Park. A girl grown up among the great gorges of the Grand Canyon of the East. "What IS this," I asked, sincerely confused.

I read the sign, proudly proclaiming this tiny outcropping of rocks as a "bluff." "They have GOT to be kidding," I scoffed. Sydney laughed. "No...they're bluffing." The Connet-a-kittens were really enjoying their baby bluffs and didn't find us all that funny as we mocked their rocks so we headed back. "How far is it from here," I asked Savannah who suddenly saw a squirrel. And then a chipmunk. And then a woman combing ticks out of the thick fur of her Golden Retriever. We re-named Savannah's adopted state (again) to Connet-a-tick-ins. "It's not my adopted state," Savannah corrected, "I'm being held hostage." We hopped in her car. "Where to now," she asked. "Dunkin' Donuts," I answered, without hesitation. "How far is it," I wondered. "Look, Mom," she said, pointing out the window as we passed a movie complex, "the new Pirates of the Caribbean is playing." I sighed. I would forever remember this day as the day that I was tricked into hiking two miles to see bluffs that weren't actually bluffs. "Forget Dunkin' Donuts," I told Savannah, "I need some coconut rum." Drink up, me hearties, yo ho!