On our way to the park, Andrew and I were discussing everything that we want to do (and have to do) before we leave for Egypt.
"We have to inspect our suitcases," I said. Some of our suitcases were pretty much in shambles when we arrived home from Jordan, having gone overseas several times previously.
"We have to get our visas," said Andrew.
"We have to go to California," I said.
"Oh, yeah. We have to do that. What a drag!" Andrew mocked me and didn't stop there, "We also have to go to Grover..."
"And we should hike Timpanogos caves!" I suggested. I haven't done that since I was like 5. Or 9. Something like that.
"We can try out our new CamelBaks*," said Andrew, giving me a sideways glance, "We'll have to because there's no drinking water on Timpanogos trails."
"Yeah," I said, not reacting to his comment. Why would I react to it? It was a completely normal thing for him to say.
"Wait. You don't know that story?" he asked, amazed, "It's like me and tomatoes! I can't believe my family hasn't brought it up!"
Apparently Andrew's family hiked up to Timpanogos Caves several years ago, with Uncle Rod, Uncle Matt and Aunt Becky. They had brought water bottles since, although paved, the path is rather steep and Utah gets rather hot in the summer.
At the bottom of the path, however, Andrew saw a sign posted that read, "No drinking water on trail."
Andrew is very obedient, bless his heart. If I ask him to do the dishes, he'll do them. And, by golly, if the sign says to not drink water on the trail, he's not going to.
The kids were all goofing off a little ways away from the adults, so Andrew took this opportunity to approach the adults altogether.
"We have to dump out our water," Andrew informed them soberly.
"Why?" someone asked.
"Well, there's a sign over there," Andrew said, pointing, "That says, 'No drinking water on trail.'"
He was rather embrassed when one of the grown ups explained to him that drinking was acting as an adverb, not a verb.
"The worst part," Andrew told me, "Is that this was when I was like 17, not when I was like 5. So I know: we have to carry our own water in. There's no drinking water on the trail."
Hiking up to Timpanogos Caves will be a great way to break in our CamelBaks*, and if that sign is still there, you can bet that I will take a picture of Andrew standing next to it, dumping out his water.
*We don't actually have CamelBaks. We have the Costco ripoffs.
I think the Costco Camelbaks are my favorite thing, ever. Every time we go there, I want to buy a new one even though we already own two. They are just so awesome.
ReplyDeleteWhoever wrote the signs for the Timpanogos cave trails needs a lesson in sensible English. My favorite one on that trail says "Running Endangers Lives." I got my picture taken next to it and my high school cross country team got a kick out of it.
Have fun on your hike!
Hmmm. If it's describing a noun, isn't it technically an adjective? Or a gerundive acting as an adjective... :-D I spend way too much time trying to remember if I'm supposed to add "ing" to the words I'm translating out of Latin... Then I give up and do whatever I want and the translation usually looks kind of OK. hee.
ReplyDeletePoint: very funny story. :-D
Why is it that people are so quick to admit their faults. It's like, you don't really want people to know when you do stupid things bit you have to tell someone (which soon turns into everyone). By the way, guess what stupid thing I did last week...
ReplyDeleteYou know Heidi, I am now not sure if it's an adverb or adjective at all. I think it may be more of a compound word. Meh...
ReplyDeleteIf it wasn't though, I'm quite sure it would be adjectival.
Joe loves taking pictures of himself standing next to signs like that- especially ones that say 'stay on trail' that are posted a few feet off the trail! 'Warning-Dangerous plants' is another one of my favorites.
ReplyDeleteBTW Dave, I think some of us are actually proud of the stupid stuff we do because it shows how not-perfect we really are. (if that makes any sense?)