So the long-awaited drive up the mountain nearly wiped out our toddler and about made our pre-schooler curse.
An old hotel had been restored into a gorgeous inn and the entrance to the cave was beautiful with layered rocks, ponds and waterfalls. Being a National Monument, having a season pass to all the national parks gave us free admittance. We were all in line to join the tour when bad news arrived from a Happy Forest Ranger that small children were not allowed under five years of age due to steep stairs and tight crawl spaces.
Now Fionn, being a small kid but smart enough to understand the concept of a cave and its "cool factor", was gently told that he couldn't enter. The disappointment was so great and the rejection was so heartfelt, he held his head upward to not let the tears fall from his eyes. He turned his face away to hide the humiliation. With that, they offered us to join the group for the first 50 feet to see the entrance but then we were turned out afterward.
Fionn's head hung low and I tried to comfort him, but it was no use. I took him and Bono to the restaurant at the Inn and ordered them each a tall milkshake with the works. Fionn ate it slowly and quietly. His disappointment lingered. It downright sucked big time.
About an hour and a half later, the family returned from their tour, all fired up and excited from their journey. They were hungry and Fionn smiled and said, "I had a giant milkshake!"
"What!" the older kids said, "NOT FAIR!"
Fionn beamed with pride, "Uh huh! And it had whip cream and chocolate and stuff and it was THIS BIG!" and he held out his hands smiling with delight.
So, the older kids went for a milkshake with dad and I took the younger three for a walk along the paths along side the cave, peering through the mouths, but never going in. My Fionn needed an adventure. Dammit, it sucks to be short.
