It was a three-day holiday week-end. I smiled, envisioning myself snuggling into warm blankets WELL past a reasonable hour. Perhaps eventually stumbling out into the living room to stare blurrily at the television before being lulled into an early nap. Staying in my jammies ALL DAY LONG.
"I'm scheduled for work in Niagara Falls tomorrow," Brad told me, "Do you want to come along? It could be an adventure." I frowned. I didn't WANT an adventure. I wanted to be a slug. "It'll be fun," he said, "you should come."
So instead of sleeping in, I was roused WELL BEFORE my typical time to leave for work. Somehow, Brad had also coerced Sydney into having "an adventure" as well. We didn't hear a whole lot from her during the hour and a half ride up to Niagara Falls. As we pulled up to the work site, Brad asked if I wanted to get dropped off at Niagara Falls State Park or walk the six or so blocks to get there. The key word in that sentence, by the way, is
so. As Sydney was still snoozing, I foolishly said we'd walk. Oh how I wish that I were able to go back in time.
Pretending to be mom-like, I had packed snack baggies filled with homemade chocolate chip cookies. "Should we take these with us," I'd asked my sleepy daughter. "Nah," she answered, as we were both confident that we would find an adorable bakery somewhere within the six or so blocks that we'd be traversing on our little adventure. Oh how she wished that she were able to go back in time.
On a happy note, I found a small, smooth watermelon-shaped acorn on my six block or so walk. On a not so happy note, I was propositioned for change (among other things) multiple times on my six block or so walk.
We finally made it to the gorge and collapsed, emotionally-exhausted, on a bench outside a small power station perched precariously on the cliff edge. We watched as a small group of happy people emerged. Sydney and I glanced at each other. "I feel like a muggle," I told her, "and that access to the wizarding world is in that building." Several fishermen approached with giant nets. Without hesitation, they opened the door and disappeared into the brick power station. "That's it," I declared, "I'm going in." I was met by a narrow hallway that led to an elevator. "I don't know about this," Sydney, who had cautiously followed me, said hesitantly as I pressed the button. The door open and we stepped inside.
Our mouths dropped open as we stepped out into a magical stone passageway that led to the gorge floor. "Look! A rock!" I announced, picking up my new treasure. "It's a bunny!" Sydney thought it looked like a rifle. Later, Brad would declare it resembled a fish. Whatever it looked like, it would become increasingly heavy over the course of our adventure. We touched the waters of the mighty Niagara. We followed a trail along the gorge. "Look! Thimble-berries," Sydney exclaimed. I picked the two ripe ones from the bush. "Ahhhh! An ant," Sydney cried, flinging her fruit away. I inspected and then ingested mine.
We then headed to the aquarium where we learned about another magical experience called a penguin
encounter. "Wait. Let me get this straight. For $65, I get to spend a half hour kissing my own personal penguin?" This was the bargain of the century! Turns out that I could have a seal lion encounter but I might get assigned a seal lion with cataracts and that one doesn't like to kiss people. I wouldn't want to take that chance. Since our birthdays are in January, Sydney and I will book our penguin encounter then. We're planning little penguin outfits in order to make a calendar. For the birds. Not us. Well...maybe for us too.
"I can't imagine our day could possibly get any more adventurous that THIS," Sydney shouted at me over the roar of the sight-seeing helicopters. Helicopters? Yeah! Let's do it! We walked an additional three blocks (or so) to jump in line. That was as adventurous as we got though. Turns out that we're
free-magical-elevator-to-the-bottom-of-the-gorge adventurous. We're even
$6 with our zoo membership aquarium admission adventurous. Once we've had months to save our pennies, we'll eventually be
$65 penguin encounter adventurous. But we were NOT
$115 eight minute helicopter ride adventurous. "Per person?" Sydney gasped. "Look! There's a life-sized chess set," I said, pointing as we eased our way out of the helicopter line. We wrestled our pieces into place. "I'm white," I yelled in the culturally-diverse environment of Niagara Falls. Several people glanced over to make sure that my statement was accurate. Sydney sighed and took my queen in three moves.
We ended up on another bench by the river trail. Sydney lamented the loss of her cookies. "I might have somethi~..." I said, rummaging in my coat pocket. "Don't you DARE tell me that you have Jolly Ranchers," Sydney snarled, still sick from her 100% Jolly Rancher diet when we were in California. "But it's blue," I proclaimed. She popped it wordlessly in to her mouth before trying to snuggle her head on my lap. "It's as hard as a ..." she complained before realizing. "Mom, do you still have your rifle rock?" I pulled it out of my sweatshirt front pocket. "It's a bunny," I told her, thrilled that she'd mistakened it for my rock-hard abs.
Turns out that I ended up carrying that thing for over six hours. Brad's speculated four-hour-work day went long so Syd and I decided to walk the six (or so) blocks back to the van (because our cookies were locked inside it). He was just putting away his equipment as we walked up to the vehicle. "Did you have fun," he asked. We had trouble answering him right away because we had been chased the last block by a man in slippers who had wanted to watch the Bills game with us. "It was an adventure," Sydney admitted, crawling into the back of the van, hugging her snack-sized baggie of cookies to her chest, and falling fast asleep. I looked at my husband and smiled. "Guess what you're getting me for my birthday?" I said.
