Ticks and poop

We went for a hike today at one of my favorite regional park; me on the hunt for photo ops for an upcoming photo competition and Lily on the hunt for poop. I was disappointed to discover the batteries in my camera were dead, but Lily was rewarded by many trailside piles from dogs, coyotes and the like.

“MORE POOP! YAY!!!” She’d even comment on its freshness, noting if it was dry or still, er, stinky. Crazy kid.

We were following a wide, truck access trail when it started tapering down. Before I knew it we were bushwhacking and since I could see the main trail just ahead, I decided we’d press on; even when I had to pick Lily up and carry her down a slippery slope and under some hanging branches, Anya snoozing peacefully on my back in the Ergo. When we broke through to main trail I looked down at Lily to see ticks crawling all over her shirt and pants. Ticks freak me out. I once threw one at Mark in my eagerness to get it away from me, ‘cause I’m mature like that. There were a couple on my pants as well, but I went ahead and concentrated on getting the suckers off my girly first. A trail maintenance guy nearby saw my frantic brushing and came over to check on us, helping by brushing a couple off the sleeping baby on my back. I swear, there had to be a couple dozen on us three.

We finished the trail with me babbling tick warnings to anyone who would listen and Lily YAY-ing for poop. She walked the whole 1.4 mile trail, asking to be carried more than once and being denied by her mean mom every single time. She enjoyed some renewed energy when we met up with another three-year-old and the two raced down the trail together. She even got to pet the resident cat at the Visitors Center and color in their activity center.

Back at the car I stripped the baby down and checked her for rogue ticks and Lily got a hot bath and inspection the minute we got home. Far as I can tell, nobody got bit. But if I get a fever and severe headache in 2-14 days, remind me of this, kay?