Sunday, Red Sunday

As we were finishing up dinner tonight, I asked if we should all hurry up and head out doors to run some wiggles out of our Hugo. Cesar said he wanted to change the oil in his truck. It would be up to me alone to run the wiggles out of our Hugo. I headed upstairs to grab the camera, my flip flops and shoes for Hugo. Cesar was sitting on the steps leading to our front door. He had Hugo on his lap waiting for me to return. As I hurried down the stairs I spied a sweet moment there before me. I snapped up this here blurry photo of Hugo loving on his Papa.

Once outside, Hugo wanted to follow his Papa into the shed and out of the shed only to return once more into the shed, oh, and yes, out of the shed! Cesar was worried about the sun setting before he had a chance to finish his job with the two of us following his every move. Besides, there was a very high, high possibility of Hugo getting into the oil and creating a giganitc mess of himself, us and the truck. The big problem for me, was that Hugo didn't want to leave his Papa's side. How would I ever distract our busy Mr Hugo?

I decided we needed to go on a hike.

Hmmmm. Or, maybe a hunt.

But, not a bear hunt.

Oh, no, no, no. Not, a bear hunt.

This here Momma had her camera and son in hand, but she didn't think she was quite up to SuperMom standards enough to:

A. Find a bear.

B. Keep from screaming if we did.

C. Take a picture. Or really, two, three, okay 5 or 13 pictures. So that there might possibly be one in the bunch that wasn't so shakily blurry that you my friends, could actually tell, that it was a bear that we had found and I had been lucky enough to photograph, said bear, at close range! Phew!!

D. Still Screaming.

E. Run. At this point, I might have flashbacks to P.E. class in high school, when Coach Petryska yelled at me to pump my arms up and down harder. Yeah, right. Like that would have helped me to run the timed mile any faster. Silly Coach P. I know he meant well. But, now with a bear on my tail, I might just start pumping my arms up and down as fast and hard as I can muster.

F. Ummmm? Crap! Where's Hugo?!?!

No, no, no, bear hunts, for this Momma & Son.

Well, unless we are tucked safely upstairs in Hugo's room, rocking away in our glider, reading our Going on a Bear Hunt book, together. Then, we may go on as many bear hunts as my dear Hugo may like! Roar us up a storm even!

We played it safe. We hunted the yard for the color red.

The End.