When my kids were quite a bit younger
my mom came through the area with two of my sisters and various nieces and nephews on their way to Myrtle Beach. Mom wanted to take everyone to Busch Gardens, so we all piled into various vehicles and went.

At the end of the day the boys were still going strong, but my daughter was starting to get tired and whiny. We were trying to get in one last ride on one of the big rollercoasters and were all but running across the park, and my daughter started lagging and complaining of being tired. So, being the dutiful dad, I put her on my shoulders (I think she was about seven at the time) and started carrying her, my legs turning to rubber with the added weight as I tried to catch up to the others.

I struggled along the path, grimly soldiering up the hill, when from above my head I heard a voice say, "Daddy's getting old and grey, doo-dah, doo-dah."

"See those rose bushes next to the path?" I said to her. "Want a really close look at them? Keep it up, kid."

She took the hint.
( The Resident Loon Not a demographic. Do not measure., Thu 17 Apr 2008, 21:21, Reply)