MY BLOG IS 7 INCHES LONG

ADVENTURES IN MAZELAND

So there I was at the St. Lawrence River for the weekend. My wife wanted to go check out some antique store about 10 miles outside Clayton that we always pass when we run up to the river. So I tell her that I will take my son to either the Aqua Zoo or to Mazeland. I ask him and he says Mazeland. Hokay. No problemo. So I take him there and I start into the maze. The front section is all canvas and when you make your way out of that, then you get to the hedge section...which surrounds the canvas area and is shaped in a square....they have a picture of the layout and it is reminiscent of the maze in the Shining....cept it's alot more friggin' smaller in path size...which I soon discovered. No sooner do I get into the hedge part of the maze when I find that the friggin' hedges are grown together up high...and since it is up high, my son has no problem running ahead of me, while I run through invisible spiderwebs and, my favorite part, the water-logged tree branches. It had been sprinkling and raining on and off the past day or so....and so after about 30 seconds, I was soaked through from the waist up while my son was nice and dry down below.

So we are running around like (wet) idiots, trying to find special letters posted inside the maze. It was something you can do while you are in there and I had to have a ten minute lecture from the retired guy manning the place so I figured we would try and find them. Basically you are looking for 5 green letters and 4 yellow letters. Get 'em all...or enough to figure out the word of the week...and you get a chance to win a whole $100 prize at the end of the season! No way! I have no idea how anyone found these frickin' things...cuz there was only 3 sure thing places they would be in...and that is 2 circular area and one square area in the maze. The letters are pinned to the trees...so you have to look INTO the trees to see them. Lame. We found TWO the entire time in there. But I digress. This is not a story about stupid letters....no. This is a story about one man's quest for the exit. A search which went horribly wrong when his son utters the four words no parent ever wants to hear while trapped in a hedge maze with no exit in sight.....









I HAVE TO POOP.



There it was. I HAVE TO POOP. No you don't says I, the all-knowing wise father figure who KNOWS his son likes to say stuff like this when he is in movie theaters and has gotten bored and wants to get out of his seat every five minutes....So I tell him so and he shuts up....for about a minute....and then he says the seven words no parent really doesn't want to hear....

I have to poop REALLY REALLY BAD. *sigh* So I say ok. Do what you have to do, and hopefully a family of four doesn't walk around the corner laughing and giggling....but thankfully I think we're alone now. There doesn't seem to be any one aroooound. (hee hee...a Tiffany reference in the middle of a poo story!) So he drops his drawers and I am like....WOOOAHHHHH NELLY....You need to squat and lean back so you don't poop on yourself. So there we are....#1 son squatting...#1 Daddy holding on to him so he doesn't fall into the hedge and land in the soft serve mess that is his doodie. Yes. Soft serve. Not a nice log cabin. Noooo. That would be slightly less disturbing to watch when I am holding onto my son and being a captive audience to my son's latest bowel movement. Also more helpful when it comes to wiping my son's ass with......with what? Oh. That's right. I'm in a FUCKING HEDGE MAZE. I don't know how many hedge mazes they have in North Carolina, but I can assure you that they have the same genetic make-up that does not lend itself to having LEAVES!!!! So I scramble, looking around for something...ANYTHING to get this nightmare over with and make it a painful yet humorous memory. So I do the best I can, and as I leave him there momentarily to go look for makeshift Charmin, my son asks if I am leaving him behind. What. Did he really think I was going to leave him alone, half naked, covered in shit and confused in the middle of as maze while I head out to the road to ask for TP?!?!?!?!? Uh, no buddy...Daddy just needs to look around for something to clean you up with. Finally, I opt for some one inch leafy weeds I found as I silently send a prayer up to God to ensure that this stuff doesn't turn out to be poison ivy. How trippy would that be? My son's ass and my hand are both itchy? hmmm....Mr. Inman would you mind answering a few questions in the back of this squad car? Aigh! So I do the deed as best I can and then the nightmare is over.....oh wait...except for the fact that I am STILL IN A FUCKING HEDGE MAZE.....and my hand probably smells funny (you try wiping a child's ass while leaning face first into a hedge with a couple one inch leaves as opposed to the catchers mitt of TP I usually envelop my hand with!). We then start making our way through the maze again once I cover the evidence of my son's trailblazing with a plastic bag I find nearby. In retrospect I probably shouldn't have covered it, as now when the owners go through, they might see the bag and decide to pick it up to dispose of it (people leave water bottles and such in there as well, so I imagine they have to make trash runs). I shudder to think what will happen when someone reaches down to grab that bag. Ok maybe not. It will likely make for one of the funniest things you will ever see. Unfortunately this was not the last time I saw the bag, as, if didn't mention this...I am frickin' LOST in a MAZE. So, like a modern day Hansel and Grettel, we keep running across the trail of "breadcrumbs" he left behind. Yes, like a gift that keeps on giving....every 5 minutes it would be like "Son! Look! There's your poop again!" which of course told me that we were running in circles.

I finally made it out after what seemed like forever. Freedom! Then, to top it off, the old man tells me that we can come back for half price next time.......for what? VISITING HOURS? Like I am going to want to step foot in there after what I just went through? (of course you know I say this and next year it will be like "Daddy I want to go to Mazeland!")

The moral of this story : What happens in Mazeland...STAYS IN MAZELAND.....and sometimes gets covered up with a convenience store bag.

Amusing follow-up anecdote to the story....I relate the story to my co-workers this morning and as soon as I say "I took my son to Mazeland", My co-worker says "ooh. I was thinking about taking the kids there next weekend.". Uh....probably not after you hear this story... >:)