Just Like when I was Little

On Sunday afternoons growing up, we would all pile into the suburban and head up to the Ferry Butte. It was a riotous ride with the 3 big kids (Shane, Shalece and Klade) up front and us 3 little kids (TaNece, me, Kelly) in the back. Driving up and down the hills and dusty windy roads was a lot of fun. Before long TaNece, my sister, would be flinging herself over the middle seat gasping for fresh air before she threw up over everyone. (Not sure why she just never sat in the front to begin with...) Once at the top of the butte we would look down and see the giant blue slide just north of the cottonwoods by the river. After running around the butte through sage brush we'd pile back in and head down towards Pocatello. We'd stop at the Smith's and buy ice cream cones. Us and the rest of the Indians along the reservation. Now days, my family is doing the same thing. We head up to either the ski resort or to the dam on Sunday afternoons. We throw rocks in the river. Kids looking out windows trying to spot deer and bear. We cook marshmallows and hot dogs purchased at the gas station on a whim because fun ideas just keep getting funner and funner. We climb rocks (and at times it's more like scaling cliffs) and look over the fields and the sprinklers. Dan and I relish in the shouts of "You guys are the coolest parents ever!" as the car gets deeper and deeper into cavernous tree tunnels. We stop at the store and buy square ice cream cones. Us and the bikers heading up to the Tetons.