Remember Your First Hayride?
As you’ve probably noticed, every weekend I try to find at least one special, preferably free, activity to enjoy with Rachel. She is so high energy and willing to explore new things, so I do my best to tap into that. Even if it means engaging in totally contrived activities such as this:
Yes, a hayride. In the city. I have to say it was actually pretty cool. They blocked off the parking lane of the streets surrounding Reading Terminal Market so the tractor had its own dedicated path. Every single type of person you could imagine was lining up to go for a ride on this hayride. It looked really fun!
Rachel was mesmerized by it, so I asked her if she wanted to go for a ride… She nervously nodded.
How could I deny her?
She held on super tight and I asked her, whaddaya think of it! Then she sat straight up and really took the whole thing in. She giggled with the kids sitting near her, but mostly she just looked up at the sky in wonder.
Do you remember your first hayride? I definitely remember mine. I was nine or ten, and I was a cheerleader for the little league football team. I can’t remember why, but that meant that we all got to go on a hayride. Somehow I ended up on the same trailer as some kids who were a few grades older than me, one of which was an estranged childhood friend who as a 13 year old boy had become quite a big deal. As little kids running around in each other’s yards we called him Nicholas, but this was years later and he was now a grown boy in school and went by his first name, John. That day, on that hayride, the other 13 year old girls were positively smitten by him and for some reason they were trying to guess what his middle name might be. I just sat there, nine and small and shy as ever, feeling like I knew a very special secret.
That was my first hayride. Do you remember yours?