Two feet, Not two wheels.

The wet stuff, required for most living things, is being abundantly supplied at this very moment. Instead of veging on the couch (remember I'm trying to lose weight) Michael and I decided to walk to the fire station again. Maybe this time we could catch someone there. Dressed in our comfy clothes, and armed with umbrellas we stepped out the door, ready for our next big adventure. It was raining when we left, so no big surprise there. There wasn't any sight of lightning, and no sound of thunder, so we were fairly secure in the knowledge that we would be safe. Of course, as always, we had the providence of God with us. Michael met his Hero de jour, a volunteer fire captain named Matt Mitchell. There, upon little man's insistence, we got the full tour. Mr. Mitchell opened everything that was closed on every truck, every wall, every nook, every cranny, and calmly described the contents therein. Cool Guy. Some people just don't have what it takes to deal with an inquisitive three year old. We finished up our walk with a stop at the .99 cent store and after getting dinner fixin's headed home, 4.45 miles in all. Good job, little walkin' buddy!