This amount of time it takes to load the pictures in this post is meant to encourage you to drink with me.

What do you get when you take a boy to the library and let him pick out a book to take home?

You get this:

And when I say, "I did things in that forest I never thought I'd do in a forest," I do not mean I was pooping in that forest.

In between the tooth fairy not coming to visit Natalie (but she left a note in the underwear drawer that she'd be back the next night because we have the TOOTH FAIRY OF THE YEAR in this house) and Nat waxing poetic about her dreams of growing up ("When I'm 18, I want to bring peace to the Middle East  cure cancer  learn the art of hard boiling eggs without turning the yolks gray sit in the bathtub and drink Diet Pepsi"), we've been all kinds of busy around here.  Like hiking.  And doing sweaty hike laundry.  And then forgetting about the laundry and throwing a damp washcloth in the dryer every few days while you run the touch-up cycle in the event you may one day remove the hike laundry from the dryer and actually fold it, but who do you think you're shining on- you know you're just going to leave that sports bra and moisture-wicking shirt in there until your next hike and let your sweat drown all your wrinkles away.

Worst. Day. Ever.

It’s been a while.  This is the all-you-can-eat buffet of blog posts, with lots of strange things that you would never expect to be side-by-side under the sneeze guard.  As with all things on the buffet, most anecdotes will not be held at the proper temperature and most definitely will have been violated by sticky kid fingers.  Eat at your own risk.