Yesterday I figured it was time for my teenage daughter, Heather, to put down her cell phone and for my 10-year-old, Brandon, to walk away from the video games so I put everyone in my Ford Fusion from Asheville Ford and head up the Blue Ridge Parkway to Mount Pisgah. I thought a little exercise would benefit everyone, me, Ruby and my three kids. Plus the view is awesome so up the 1.5 mile trail to the top of Mount Pisgah.

Have you ever tried to get a three year old up to the top of a mountain? It certainly was not a good time for him and a scary time for me. His brother and sister were leading way ahead of him and he was scrambling all over the rocks to catch up. I held his hand for most of the journey and kept telling him he had to be careful and slow down. Yeah, it was like talking to a one of the rocks along the trail, pointless. That was until he slipped and scraped his knee. Then the tears started to run and everyone was looking at me like I had dragged him up the hill. Even one older gentleman told me, “Slow down dad he has to take two steps for every one of yours”. Where was Grandpa Joe when this squirrely little three year old was tearing up the path with me chasing him?

Then we started back down the mountain and Ruby was struggling a little bit with the decent but she was able to over come. She climbed down several of the rock faces to get to the flat path back to the car only to slip on a wet rock and fall straight down on her tail bone. POW!

Yeah....they were bruised, bleeding and hungry….but now their healthier….at least that’s what I keep telling myself.