What happened before my afternoon turned to complete crap was that I had a brilliant idea, it was a beautiful  day, and the kids and I took Petunia for a walk. She was acting hyper and clearly needed some exercise.

I had ambitious goals. We’d walk half a block, to a grassy scenic area, where the kids could play, run around, and collect rocks.

So, how many fights can three kids get into while moving three feet? I’d say about 30.

Because serious things need to be decided like, who will walk next to who, who is cutting who, and who is pushing who?

My nine year old was as invested as the six year olds (twins) over these critical issues. But I had some awesome parenting up my sleeve. Make the nine year old my helper. Duh, brilliant. She was put in the lead with Petunia. I had a twin on both sides, and we had a quarter of a block left. What could go wrong?

When we got to the grassy scenic area that over looked  a stream and a forest, Petunia bolted down the hill, into the forest, and into the water. She zigzagged through a dangerous intersection. She ran, and ran, like a bat out of hell.  My kids were hysterical. I told them to stay put while I used every dog trick I knew to try and get Petunia back. The kids did not stay put. They screamed, “Mommy, mommy, I’m scared!” I tried to remain calm. I was in the stream trying to cajole Petunia, while yelling, begging, and threatening the kids not to follow me.

My nine year old grabbed Petunia’s collar as she ran back up the hill.

My voice is hoarse from yelling, I have scrapes on my legs from lose twigs.  I am so thankful we all survived!

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