From Not Always Right: You Never Know When The Puppy Chow Fairy Will Appear
I recently went camping with some friends at a big state park, and one of my friends made puppy chow. For those not from the Midwest, it’s an easy-to-pack trail snack made from cereal, peanut butter, and chocolate, and it’s very tasty.
After lunch, when most of my group went to the lake, I decided to go for a short solo hike on a trail surrounded by big boulders. We’re talking from the size of furniture to the size of camper vans, so while you could see up the slope to the tree line, visibility immediately around the trail was limited. I was happily crawling around boulders off-trail when I heard the unmistakable sounds of a small child sobbing and a harried parent trying to comfort them. It was far too nice a day to spend crying, so I went to see if I could offer assistance.
Young Dad: “It’s okay, sweetie. It’s just bruised, see? No blood.”
Little Girl: “But it huuuuuurts!”
Young Dad: “We’ll wash it off, and I’ll carry you for part of the way, okay? We’ve gotta get moving, though; we’re blocking the trail.”
Little Girl: “I don’t wanna!”
Me: “Heya. Sounds like someone took a tumble. Would some chocolate help?”
Young Dad: Exasperated “Well, it certainly wouldn’t hurt.”
Me: “Cool. Any allergies? I have puppy chow that I don’t mind sharing.”
At this, the little girl’s eyes went wide, and she was so busy staring at me that she forgot she was crying. It was only then that it occurred to me that I probably did look semi-feral; I was covered in mud and scrapes from climbing around the rocks, I had realistic vine tattoos up both legs and henna tattoos on my arms, I was carrying most of a small dead tree that I’d been using as an ad hoc walking stick, and I was still wearing one of the bindweed and clover flower crowns that my group had been making at lunch.
From Not Always Right: You Never Know When The Puppy Chow Fairy Will Appear
I recently went camping with some friends at a big state park, and one of my friends made puppy chow. For those not from the Midwest, it’s an easy-to-pack trail snack made from cereal, peanut butter, and chocolate, and it’s very tasty.
After lunch, when most of my group went to the lake, I decided to go for a short solo hike on a trail surrounded by big boulders. We’re talking from the size of furniture to the size of camper vans, so while you could see up the slope to the tree line, visibility immediately around the trail was limited. I was happily crawling around boulders off-trail when I heard the unmistakable sounds of a small child sobbing and a harried parent trying to comfort them. It was far too nice a day to spend crying, so I went to see if I could offer assistance.
Young Dad: “It’s okay, sweetie. It’s just bruised, see? No blood.”
Little Girl: “But it huuuuuurts!”
Young Dad: “We’ll wash it off, and I’ll carry you for part of the way, okay? We’ve gotta get moving, though; we’re blocking the trail.”
Little Girl: “I don’t wanna!”
Me: “Heya. Sounds like someone took a tumble. Would some chocolate help?”
Young Dad: Exasperated “Well, it certainly wouldn’t hurt.”
Me: “Cool. Any allergies? I have puppy chow that I don’t mind sharing.”
At this, the little girl’s eyes went wide, and she was so busy staring at me that she forgot she was crying. It was only then that it occurred to me that I probably did look semi-feral; I was covered in mud and scrapes from climbing around the rocks, I had realistic vine tattoos up both legs and henna tattoos on my arms, I was carrying most of a small dead tree that I’d been using as an ad hoc walking stick, and I was still wearing one of the bindweed and clover flower crowns that my group had been making at lunch.
Me: “So, any allergies?”
Young Dad: “Uhhhhh… no, no allergies.”
(Contd)