Abort and redirect. With cobbler.
Today a family hike was planned. Normally, this goes well. H has developed into a good hiker, and Baby C has gotten used to his baby backpack thingy. It seems that each hike grows a little more strenuous than the last and H has been game all year.
Today the gameness was over. He sat down in the middle of the trail and loudly and in very clear, complete sentences, announced his intention to not go on. He said it was too steep (????) So we went back down after only about a mile, and had a picnic instead at my favorite mountain reservoir. Of course, I forgot my camera for the whole shebang. Just trust me.
Then there was peach cobbler for dessert. I will eat anything with sugar in it, likely much more of it than anyone might reasonably expect, but I do have my preferences. Pie is low on the list, unfrosted cake is just above, frosted cookies above that, then frosted cake, then fruit crisps, then cookies, and then cobbler. I think cobbler tops it out. And peach cobbler is the best of them all.
I live in a peach-producing area. And I’m married to a cobbler-producing man (as well as producing an occasional cobbler myself). Lucky me.