Not My Kid
This is perhaps the rarest of DaddyTales, one without our kids. They were at home with a friend this Sunday, while my wife and I went to the Sanford Zoo to try out the ropes course.
There are actually two courses there: one for people over 36″ tall, and one for people over 52″ tall. I’ve already taken the boys on the smaller one, and had been looking forward to giving the big one a try. It’s high up in the trees, with zip lines running between Live Oaks, and hanging moss all around.
There were two other families with us as we listened to the training about the harnesses. One couple had children too small for the adult course. They were going on the smaller one, under the watchful eye of their grandparents, while their parents were going on the big one.
We received our instructions, climbed the ladder, and set off on the course. The weather, though threatening rain, was beautiful, with a temperature in the mid-70’s and no blazing sun to blind us. My wife and I chatted while we waited for the folks in front of us to reach the next platform, and then I set off across the first rope bridge.
“Daddy,” a little boy’s voice shouted from across the course. “I peed in my pants!”
“Shh,” the grandmother hissed. “It’s okay. Shhh!”
The little boy was still climbing as he shouted, the front of his pants the dark color of wet denim. “Look, Daddy! I peed! I couldn’t help it!”
The man on the platform in front of me hung his head. “Okay,” he shouted back. “Just keep climbing.”
Chuckles rained down through the trees around us, and the man in front of me joined in. He had no choice, of course. Getting angry certainly wouldn’t have helped anything. No, as a parent, you realize there’s absolutely nothing you can do in that situation, except look forward to the time when it’s someone else’s kid wetting their pants while traversing a rope bridge twenty feet off the ground.