Poopy, Pie, and Mommy the bocka, bocka...

Supper, night #1 in Lake George. We're at a semi "fancy" restaurant, just finished placing our order and Ally turns to me and announces, rather loudly, "Daddy, I need to go poopy". The younger couple trying to have a romantic dinner behind us glare at me. "Okay honey Mommy will take you". So Mommy takes little Ally to the bathroom. The couple behind me still staring at me, I wait for the triumphant return of my daughter, knowing all to well what happens next. "Daddy I made POOPY!!" Ally shouts as she returns from the table (she starts the shouting about 15 feet away). The glares from the young couple behind me continue, this time even more disapproving than the last. Typically I don't revel in the uncomfortableness of others, but I can't help feel just a tinge of pride knowing that these people are all out of whack because my 2 1/2 year old daughter happened to mention that she had made a poopy. I mean what's the big deal?...had they never made poopy before? Seriously she's 2 years old...what did they expect her to say "Daddy I went to the lavatory and had a bowl movement?" Heck even I don't say that. They should feel lucky she doesn't phrase things like her Daddy does, for example... "Honey, I wouldn't go in there I just took a dump...".

So after supper we decide to not stick around for dessert as who knows what other bodily functions Ally may need to announce to unsuspecting bystanders. We do a quick tour of the outlet stores then we decide to look for something sweet to bring back to the hotel for dessert. At the mercy of the suggestion(s) of our GPS unit, we make our way to a Getty gas station. I'm picturing getting a few Ring Dings, maybe we'll get lucky and they'll even have Chocodiles. On our way we run into the "General Store" of the area. I immediately forget about the gas station convenience store knowing my options are better at the family owned general store. I go in expecting to be able to pick up some cookies or something, and find out I hit the jackpot. Not only do they have homemade banana bread w/ frosting, but they also have a nice selection of homemade pies. After a bit of internal deliberation, I decide I'm not going to buy a whole pie, I'll just get a couple of cookies, milk, and some of the banana bread. I bring my bounty out to the car and relay all of this to my Wife. I'm instructed to go back inside and I'm not allowed back out until I am in possession of pie. Evidently my Wife was also jonesing for something sweet as well...at least we were both on the same wavelength. I go back in, the lady behind the counter looks at my with that curious "Didn't you just leave?" look. I walk over to the counter and end up deciding on a strawberry rhubarb pie. Not an easy choice, but looking back I think I made the right decision. So as Jack Kerouac says in On the Road...pie is the ultimate road food, it's wholesome, compact, and filling. This pie helped sustain our sweet tooth's in two different cities, over a 3 day period. It was the best $11.00 I had spent in a long, long time.

We decide to check out the Olympic Ski ramps that still reside in Lake Placid on Sunday morning. We take the short ride over and peering at us over the tall pines are two towering structures. These are what we had come to see. Standing at about 150 feet high are the ski rams left over from the 1980 Olympic Games and are used today as tourist attractions. People plop down $10 each to ride to the top look around and come back down. We get our tickets and make our way over to the welcome center. Making our way over I already see a problem...the only way up the hill to the bases of the ramps is....a chair lift. I already know this isn't going to fly with Ally nor Mommy. A quick chat with the people over at the welcome center confirm my suspicions...that this is the "primary" way to the top. My Wife looks at me, then the lift, then back at me...and I already know what's going to happen. "Is there a 'we are too chicken to take the chair lift route to the top?'" I ask. I'm told that there is a separate alternate route to a parking lot for people with SPECIAL NEEDS. This is what we're told, and a quick glance at our program guide we got with our tickets confirms this. So after navigating our way to the "special needs" parking area (and yes we were the ONLY car parked there) we make our way to the elevator that waits to bring us to the top of the ramp. We exit the elevator about 130 feet higher than we started and we're on an indoor observation deck. I start snapping photos here and there hoping there's going to be some sort of exterior photo area. Luckily I find a set of stairs that brings you up to just such an area. A quick glance at the top of the stairs and I know that Ally and Mommy need to come up and see this. It's an unobstructed view of the surrounding area and it's beautiful. Mommy doesn't want to go up, Ally couldn't be happier to run up the metal stairs as fast as she can. Mommy goes against her better judgment and decides to join us at the exposed upper level. Now here's something I didn't know about my Wife...she has an unexplained fear of heights. How do I NOT know this?....we've been together for 13 years and I am a fairly observant person. I'm assuming that she's either been really good at hiding it, it's something new, or we just haven't been high enough to bring out this fear before. Anyway back to the story...I'm near the railing looking out over the landscape, I turn around and my Wife has a death grip on the back railing with one arm, and she's desperately trying to hold on to Ally with the other. The tears begin to roll not too long after this. Oh boy, okay, obviously either I've taken this situation too lightly, or my Wife's taken it too seriously...either way I know I need to do something because my Wife's now babbling through the tears, sounding like Rain Man, "Too high, too high, I can't, no let go, too high...". All I wanted was a photo with the three of us looking out at the nice scenery, instead I got a picture of my Wife grabbing my daughter and latched on to the railing like Bubba to a doughnut. "Okay Honey, let's go down now". Ally looking over the situation decides to try to sooth her mother the only way she knows how..."Mommy's a chicken, hey Mommy....bocka, bocka, bocka...". It was an interesting stop, a wide range of emotions were involved, and I learned a few things...#1. My Wife has a new (or is it?) fear of heights, and #2. My daughter enjoys seeing her parents squirm.