Saturday, March 28, 2015

King of the Rock

A couple of weeks ago, several members of our immediate and extended family took a road trip to a nearby mountain town.  During the day, we skied down the slopes like lunatics trying to keep up with Son #1.  In the evenings, we took leisurely walks through the charming town.  Son #1 and Son #2 found the walks to be very exciting.  There were so many things to explore, climb, and inspect.

On one particular walk, my mom and I strolled with the boys past shops in the cold mountain air.  An icy breeze nipped at our cheeks as the boys jumped on large boulders strategically placed in the landscaping.  Son #1  bounded easily from rock to rock.  Son #2 analyzed every step that Son #1 took before attempting to climb the very same rocks.  The boys shrieked with laughter as they played their little game. 

Suddenly, Son #1 saw a huge boulder at the edge of a parking lot.  He sprinted to the rock and scrambled to the top.  My eldest son pushed his chest into the air, extended his arms high over his head, and cried loudly.  "I'm the king of the rock!"

Son #2 took notice of his older brother and raced to the large rock.  He stretched his hands over the top of the boulder, dug his knees into the sides, and dragged himself to where his brother stood.  Carefully, he balanced his weight as he slowly extended his arms above his head.  "I da king of da rock!"  My youngest son roared.

Son #1 hopped down from the boulder and leaped to another.  He glanced at his younger brother with a cheerful smile and yelled again.  "I'm king of the rock!"

Son #2 laughed with delight.  Then, he held his tiny hand out and shouted.  "Help me get down, Mama!"

As soon as I placed Son #2 onto the sidewalk, he raced to the next rock and crawled to the top.  With great care, my youngest son stood with his hands reaching to the sky.  "I king of da rock!"  He screamed.

Son #1 giggled and said to his brother.  " I bet I can beat you to the next rock."

"Les race!"  Son #2 responded gleefully.

"On your mark.  Get set.  Go!"  Son #1 and Son #2 began to race but had to stop because it was too dark to run like wild minions.

"Come back and hold our hands!"  My mom and I called out to the two little monkeys. 

"Aww!  Do we have to?"  Son #1 complained.  "We were racing!"

"Yes.  You need to hold our hands.  It's too dark right now."  I explained.

Son #2 squirmed and wiggled trying to avoid grabbing my mom's hand.  Son #1 pouted and placed his hands in his pockets.  Eventually after a bit of discussion, the boys did hold our hands as we continued to walk down the street.  Soon, the boys yawned and rubbed their eyes.  It was getting late so we turned back toward the hotel.  As we walked down the moonlit sidewalk, the boys spied one last rock to climb.  They sleepily clambered to the top of the rock and called out once more for the town to hear.  "I'm king of the rock!"

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