A little boy in a deer hat is playing in the woods. A walk in the woods. Christmas deer hat. Forest.

A Babe In The Woods?

Here is another funny. Why wait for big things to happen before I blog. The little things keep me grinning.

I was on my daily hike to the mailbox (one mile uphill both ways ;-)). Since we live in a lake community in Idaho, our neighborhood is a bit of a ghost town in winter. My walks are usually quite peaceful – a good time to ponder.

Lance and I had just had a discussion about kids and what a wonderful experience they are. Sadly, my baby-making tools have been tied, then dried. If I got pregnant, I’d no doubt be a modern miracle. It’s probably best not to wish to birth another baby. I don’t have the patience for all the interviews and, quite frankly, the tabloid rocket to stardom would put a cramp in our style. We often talk of kids (most likely grandkids) and how we’d learn from them and they from us. Raising kids deserves its own blog post, and so it shall, later.

Crunch, crunch, crunch, shout my snow boots as I trudge on down the snowy gravel road. Then, up the hill to the left, in the woods, I hear a WRAAAARRR. It sounded like a fidgety baby (it really did folks, I promise I hadn’t been takin swigs of the vanilla). WAAAAA, there it was again…

Oh my, oh my.  My mind starts to wander… God? Is that You? Delivering our baby? Is this to be Moses Jr.? We’d be great parents, Lance and I! Maybe if we turned it into social services and nobody claimed him, we’d get to keep him.

Of course I know it’s not a baby dumped in the woods by God, but it was fun to think about. I tell my musings to Lance when I get back home. He quickly identifies the sound as a tom cat (Yep. I verified it. The google queen that I am found a tomcat crying sound-bite online).

No hurry, kids of mine, to have kids, but know we’ll be super cool grandparents, the hubs and I.

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