Asleep at the Wheel

My wife and I lived in Northeast Missouri when we welcomed our first son to this world. We were living on my in-laws 75 acres of beauty. That part of the country is either farmland or hunting land. The land that surrounded us was the latter, so most of the year there were miles and miles of four-wheeling trails litterally right out my back door. On many occasions I would go wander for hours on end. Everything was so green there and so untouched by the teaming masses of humans that populate this world.

The four-wheeler was the quickest way around the farm and it quickly established a Pavlovian response in my son. If he heard the four wheeler, that most likely meant that Grandpa was coming over to visit. My father-in-law started taking him on rides around the yard at about 9 months old. At first, this didn't settle with me so well, but after seeing how careful he was I had no qualms. I decided one day to take him on little bit of a tour of the surrounding country side.

Pristine is a shameful understatement of the land that we were exploring. On any given venture you would see turkey vultures, turkeys, deer, pheasant, quail, owls, snakes, turtles, bugs, spiders the size of your hand, herons, geese and the list just goes on and on. This particular ride was no different. The bouncing, floating balls of cotton would dissipate into the trees as the white tail deer scattered upon hearing the husky growl of my steed. The lumbering flight of wild turkeys and the vultures effortless swooping and circling were seen around every other corner. I don't know if my son was even seeing any of this happening, but it didn't matter to me. We were having a moment, nonetheless. Just to be in the presence of such wilderness would inspire the worst of writers to pen a bestseller.

About twenty minutes into the ride I thought it was probably time to start heading home. With my boy nestled firmly between my legs and a seat belt like bear hug, I turned the four wheeler around. I was encompassed by euphoria. It was one of those moments when you realize that you are exactly where you're supposed to be. The feeling started to fade as the surrounding greenery passed. I felt moisture on my arm; the one that was holding my son. I looked down at him and not being able to see his face I thought something was wrong with him. He then went totally limp. A slight sense of panic set in until I came to my senses. He passed out cold. He was drooling in a state of sleep that I only wish I could achieve these days.

I couldn't stop laughing for the next twenty minutes as I made my home with a sack of rice for a son. It was a precarious balancing act to find the right position to support him. I would pay a hefty sum to see this scene play out on video; a limp child in the lap of a cackling man riding a four wheeler through the woods.

The lesson learned here is to pay attention to the subtleties that quell a restless child. Sometimes it's the things you overlook that work the best. It's easy to connect the rumble of a motor to the sensation of being in utero.