Another Dirty Dash came and went

"Woah, Mom, did you see all the mud on those runners?"

"I'm totally jealous."

 

There we were, on the mountain side, watching mud monsters walk/jog/run/hobble past. It was the annual Dirty Dash Mud Run last weekend, and Caleb and his Dad dove in once again. Somewhat literally. 

"Mom, these guys are crazy."

Emmy, Jonah, Amelia and I hiked up the mountainside to a shady spot to wait for our runners to show up. Upon our arrival I handed the camera to Emmy and she started snapping pics.

Emmy: "Jonah, stand in front of the Hot Air Balloon, I'll take your picture!"

"That's it, work it baby, work it!"

"Let yourself go, you're gorgeous!"

Thankfully, our muddy men eventually appeared. We walked down the hill with them to the finish line/mud wallow.

They're convinced I'm going to join them next year. I would, I really would! It's not the mud that gets me.
It's that whole 10k thing that goes along with the mud.

I can get that muddy in my garden. Don't ask me how I know.

Daddy and Papa just became the ultimate heroes of these little kiddos. Again.

I should start a mud race of my own, doncha think? Out in the garden? I could get a lot of help with harvesting.

I'd call it The Piggy Peach Plunge. Or The Blackberry Bog Race. How about Tomato Torture Challenge!

Or maybe not. We'll leave these things to the professionals.

Only one of us was less than impressed, and she was downright disgusted. Just about broke Caleb's heart! He hosed off the best he could and then she was willing to look at him, but he needed an hour of scrubbing in the warm shower to get back to himself - then she was his little girl again.

You didn't want that shirt, did you honey? Because I don't own that much oxyclean.