Vision in Camo

So far Rocky has been a Vision in Pink, a Vision in Blue and a Vision in Stripes.  Today, as we were getting ready to go to the Mighty Kindness Hootenanny (a festival for pacifists, hippies, artists and people from my church), I asked her, “Would you like to be a Vision today?  Let’s see … pink, brown … oh, here’s green!”

“I want to be a Vision in Camo.”

No, dammit, I don’t have a photo.  You’ll just have to envision it.  She was camouflage top to toes, the “camo” on the pants was in the shape of butterflies, and her curly hair was up in pigtails.  And I think we were the only people at the Mighty Kindness Hootenanny exchanging punches and kicks with our camouflage-wearing child.  It was in play, but still.  What kind of hippies are we, anyway?

On the way out, Ry climbed a wonderful old knobby tree, and when she was 6 or 7 feet off the ground, my pal who was with us said, “There’s an owl.”  I smiled.  “No,” she said, “there’s an owl. NO NO DON’T PUT YOUR HAND THERE!”

Reaching for a hold, Rocky had put her hand into the big hole at the top of the cut-off trunk, at the same time that a screech owl stuck its head up from that hole to see who the hell was climbing its house.  I guess it couldn’t see her, with the camo and all.


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