We arrived early to ride scooters in the parking lot. With the sleds still in the garage, it was ecstasy to strap on helmets and scoot. Mind you, I did not scoot. I stood tall in the parking lot in a Dad stance, protector of the scooter sisters. At one point, my 4-year-old wanted to foot race her older sister yet keep her helmet on as a safety precaution. Broad Street bypassing vehicles had the pleasure of seeing this peculiar parking lot chase; 6-year-old scooting powerhouse versus a 4-year-old flash wearing a loose helmet. Everyone was victorious.
Once inside the Discovery Center, we returned to familiar fun. Over the course of the past two calendar years, this place has helped us maintain our collective sanity. Our girls have mastered the immigration process on the 1st Floor and have become Master Chefs on the 3rd. As the pandemic rages on, we have unleashed the imagination immunity. Stay together. Play together. Support each other during mental breakdowns. On this occasion, our 6-year-old banished a friend after she was allegedly kicked in the head by this boy. There was no surveillance video to review as this occurred on the mine shaft slide. I provided talk therapy as my eldest daughter requested that this 7-year-old be booted out of the Discovery Center for his boot-to-skull infraction.
Minutes later, they were rolling around on the ground together. She a dolphin. He a shark eating her. The hoopla and harmony of childhood.
After a two hour conquest, it was time for grub. Ryan's Artisan Goods has also served us well in 2020-2021. Breakfasts and lunches at this small business have sustained us. The great big window offers a view of the world going by while we cram food and Crayola create. Ryan's had a nice lunch crowd on this Saturday as we sipped and slammed everything that was placed before us. My 4-year-old colored her hero, The Hulk. His pants are her favorite color and they share a love for aggression.
My wife took the brigade home post-food frenzy. I stayed in Cambria City for a Dad workout. Most trainers would not recommend a Mocha and a sandwich immediately before lacing up. Well, Dad life need no trainer and requires gut check decision making. You just need a full cup of ambition and a dash of stupidity. With the sun on my face and a full belly, off and running twas I.
I crossed over the Stonycreek bridge and made my way to downtown. My mission was to circle around the colossal Christmas tree and make my trek back; it would be a spirited 3.5 miles of glory. When I got to Central Park, tis the season was all around; music playing, youngsters tossing a football, and dozens of community members crisscrossing in Christmas contentment. Then, there was me, a Yukon Cornelius type athlete bursting on scene. Upon making it back to my starting point, I was quite proud of my achievement. Mileage down and no throw up.
I did a cool down hike in Stackhouse Park to embrace just a little bit more of that sunshine. I have logged hundreds of hiking miles in Stackhouse Park over my time on Mother Earth. It has been my go-to-refuge since the word "Covid" invaded our consciousness. Amongst those trees, my brain has benefited from all that nature provides and everything it doesn't - news, conspiracy, opinion, judgement. I can just watch the scamper of a squirrel and believe it will all work out in the end.
When I got home, my kids put on a show in the front yard. Their stage was a leaf pile. Their audience was Mom and Dad. The sun was starting to fade as those two little girls shined bright. A perfect final act.
Thank you Discovery Center, Ryan's, Oh Christmas Tree, and Stackhouse - a collection and connection of community. Thanks to my wife and daughters for providing a jolt of inspiration at every starting line and coloring page.
See you soon Santa. Deliver more sunshine.
