I have a nice solid
frame backpack made by Kelty with a mostly enclosed canopy. I buckled
him in and hoisted him up. We were an amphibious vehicle capable of
extended (well, two hours or until the apple juice runs out) forays
into the wilds.


I had an equivalent backpack. Took my then two-year-old out in it.
Whilst running down the trail, I didn't stoop low enough for her head
to clear a branch. Her tears lasted 3 minutes. Mine, however, lasted
a lifetime as my wife continually reminds me of the massive gash and
head-girdlling bump (one inch scratch and small bump) that I inflicted
on her baby. The kid is now twenty, but my bride brings it up about
weekly.

"What are you doing, Daddy?"

Kinda like the TV show "Dinosaurs" as the young one rides on the
daddy's shoulders, pounding daddy on the head with a sauce pan
hollaring "Not the Mommy!"

Great story, Thanks, this mad house needed that.
Frank Reid