Scott and I finally got to go on a trip together. We took a group on a 3-National Park whirlwind. First stop, Bryce Canyon. Actually, first stop was the Beaver Chevron, 3 hours into our road trip, at 7 am.
Then Bryce. Scott and Sofia had never been to Bryce. I went with the others two years ago, but it doesn't get any less majestic.
We just planned on taking the older kids, but Tziporah adamantly insisted on going. She said, "If you leave me, you'll forget about me." Sweet little thing was tired of being left behind. So at 4 am, we wedged her sleepy little pajama'd self between Victor and Ruby in the "way back," and there she stayed, with her "road trip parents," for the whole trip. Ruby and Victor were so good to her. She ate up the constant doting, giggling, tickling and squealing with happiness through mile after mile of red rock and sage brush.
Scott and I are bad at working together. I think we both like to be in charge, though neither one of us wants to admit that. We decided I would do breakfast and Scott would do lunch, and we would both love, or pretend to love, what the other person did. Breakfast was this spread, on a bench overlooking Bryce Canyon. Scott accepted my approach, even though there was a possibility that that bench wasn't the VERY best, most rapturously perfect place in the whole park to eat our meal. Can you tell? He's a perfectionist, and I'm a "just do it now, this is great." Is there a word for that?
Tizzy makes even the simplest breakfast look high-class.
Mini hike. Tziporah was scared of the heights. That surprised me!
Beautiful people! Ah, I love them.
And these people, too. Oh, happy day!
No comments:
Post a Comment