The Best Day [PiE]

>Day camping trip on Earth.
>Be Anon.
>Your pony wife has been on you to bond with her son for quite some time now.
>He's just a little tyke, but always excited about seeing new things.
>His stature is also grounds for your nickname for him.
>One particular thing he's been wanting to do for the last couple weeks was to go to the woods.
>You've spent the last week preparing for the weekend-long trip of just you and him.
>He's been ecstatic the entire time.
>Finally the day came when it was time to go.

>He helps you load up the station wagon with all the gear you need.
>The tent bag is strapped around his sleeping bag is held by a string between his teeth.
>You stow the fishing poles, tackle box, and a cooler full of soda.
"Y'all ready?" you ask him.
>He promptly leaps into the front seat and straps himself in.
>"Yup!" he exclaims.
>The wife comes out and gives you a peck on the lips.
>"You two be careful now," she says.
"No worries, hun," you assure.
>Another kiss goodbye and you hop into the car.
>Pulling away, you see her waving at the two of you.
>"Have fun!" she says.
>"Bye mom!" waves Tyke.

>It's quite the drive from home to reach the park where you'll be camping.
>But the moment the concrete city disappears and the forests start becoming dominant, little Tyke there starts standing up and looking out the window.
"This is the best day of my life!" he says.
>You don't think he could be more excited if he tried.
>"It's so pretty," he said, staring through the glass at the trees.
>Turning his head back to face you, he asks, "Where are we going again?"
"I don't know," you say with a shrug.  "Whatever looks like a good spot."
>You turn off on an old dirt road and keep going.
>After a few minutes, there's a bend the runs parallel to a river.
>"How about there?" asks Tyke.
>He points up ahead to a large clearing next to the river.
"Perfect.  Good eye," you compliment.
>This brought a proud beam to Tyke's face.

>Pulling up and parking the car, the two of you start unloading the gear.
>Tyke tugs on the cooler with his front hooves, trying to pull it out.
>You watch as he yanks on it before going around to the other side to push.
"I got it, bud," you tell him as you grab it.
>"Okay," he replies.
>Instead he goes for the lighter tent and sleeping bags.
>You show him how to set the tent up and how to kick your feet (hooves) off before getting in.
>When you lay out the sleeping bags inside, he immediately starts romping around and rolling over the cushioney beds; laughing all the while.
"Come on, lets make us a fire," you say to him.
>Tyke perks up at that and rushes out.

"Alright.  I'll dig the hole if you find us some sticks," you offer.
>"Okay!" he said as he ran off into the bushes.
>You laugh at his energy before grabbing a shovel to dig a small pit.
>As you dig, Tyke comes back and forth bring small branches and random sticks one at a time and setting them beside you.
"You think you can get us a log or something?" you ask.
>"Sure thing, Anon!" he replied.
>You line the fire pit with rocks and start to set the sticks and stuff up.
>After several minutes of Tyke not coming back, you start to get a bit worried.
"Tyke!" you call.
>"Here!" comes a distant call.
>Following his voice, you find him trying to roll a rather large log towards the camp.
>"It's so heavy!" he cries.
"You need a hand, big guy?" you ask.
>"I can do it," he answers.
>After another push and rolling it just a bit more, he gets all pooped out and takes a seat.
>You decide to help him anyways.
>Compared to you, the log isn't nearly as big or heavy.
>You lift one end of it and bear hug it; dragging it back to camp.
"Wanna fetch the hatchet from the car?" you ask Tyke.
>As he trots off, you holler out to him.
"Be careful!"

>He's still digging around in the back of the station wagon as you reach the camp site.
>Dropping the log, you put your hands on your knees and try to catch your breath.
>"Found it!" calls Tyke as he hops out of the back with the sheathed hatchet between his teeth.
"Thanks bud," you say as you take it from him.  "Now stand back."
>Whack!  Whack!  Whack!
>Your manly man hands cleave the axe head through the wooden log like a hot knife through butter.
>At least that's what you'd have like to imagine it would be like.
>The little hand axe takes quite some time to cut a section off the log, and then section that into firewood.
>You add the cut wood to the firepit and fetch your lighter.
>"Are you going to start it like a caveman?" asked Tyke in wonderment.
"Even better," you reply.
>You pour a bottle of lighter fluid over the sticks and stick the lighter under them.
>Flick, flick, BWOOSH!
>The fluid catches and a huge ball of fire shoots into the air.
>You jump back and land on your butt as Tyke cheers at the spectacle.
>With hand on face, you feel around for singed or missing hairs.
"We're good," you announce.
>"That was cool!" he says with a laugh.

>With the fire now steadily rolling, the sun won't be down for a little bit.
"How's about we throw the lines out?" you suggest.
>Tyke nods his head and runs to jump into the back of the station wagon.
>He comes out with his little blue rod and reel.
>You grab your own rod and the tackle box before following the colt to the river side.
>You show him how to bait the hook which almost causes him to gag.
>Helping him toss the line out, he takes a seat and anxiously watches the bobber float slowly away.
>Tossing out your own line, you lie down on the river bank and take a load off.
>After about five minutes, Tyke's doing anything but sitting still.
>"Here fishy, fishy, fishy," he says to the water.
"You're gonna scare the fish off, bud," you tell him.
>"When do they get here?" he asks.
>You sit quietly for a moment.
"Uhm...  I'm not sure," you finally respond.  "They didn't return the phone call."
>You chuckle at your clever quip.
>"Fishies are rude," said Tyke.

>Another minute passes of him lightly tugging on the line to make the bobber bounce.
>"Did you see my new wagon?" asked Tyke.
>You're the one who bought it.
>It was a little red metal wagon.
"I did.  Did you know we can hook that up to my bike?"
>"Really!  How fast can it go!"
"Well, not too fast.  It might flip over, you know?"
>"Oh.  Mom might not like that."
"Haha.  I'd definitely be in hot water."

>Tyke tries to think of more stuff to talk about.
>"What do you think of my puppy?" he asked.
>His puppy was a baby border collie.
>Black with a white collar of hair and a brown tuft on its chest.
"He's a cute little guy," you answer.
>"He's funny!" says Tyke.  "I was watching him sleep and he sneezed and woke himself up!"
>You share a laugh with him.
"I used to have a puppy like him.  We had to give her away though when we moved."
>"Aww..." moaned a sympathetic Tyke.  "Do you miss her?"
"I do.  She's with a good family though so that's nice to know."
>"Do you visit her often?"
"No," you hesitantly reply.
>"You should.  I bet she'd be happy to see you!"
>A smile crossed your lips as you remember running around with your pet dog some years ago.
"Yeah.  Probably," you reply.

>As you reminisce, you hear Tyke start to panic.
>"Anon!  Anon!  Help!"
>Lifting your head, you see his line being tugged and the colt trying to hold onto the rod with his hooves.
>Sitting up quickly, you move closer to him to lend a hand if he needs it.
"You got it, Tyke!" you encourage.
>As he yanks on the rod, you decide to offer him some help and reel it in since he's just trying to yank the fuck out of the water.
>Moments later, you spot the splash of the fish breaking the surface.
>Shortly thereafter, it's laying on the grass with Tyke jumping up and down in celebration.
"Nice job, bud," you tell him with a pat on the back.  "Now hold it up so we can get a picture for mom."
>The colt poses for the picture, resting the rod on the ground with the fish hanging down next to him.
>Using your phone, you capture the moment and his smile.
>Taking the fish off the hook, he gently pets it before you release it back into the water.
>"Bye, fishie!" he says.

>More fishing commences.
>You catch a couple more and so does Tyke.
>Breaks are taken every so often to re-fuel the fire.
>Snacks of trail mix are also thrown in.
>Come nightfall, the two of you chill out by the fire and roast marshmellows for smores.
>Tyke still continues to talk about his puppy, school, and other stuff.
>Really, you're just killing time and bonding.
>He thinks it's just camping and smore-making.
>His mother wants you two closer, and that's what you aim to do.
>You may not have been 'close' per se before, but you were friends.
>As the fire starts to burn out and the moon rises higher overhead, it comes time to hit the sack.
>As you watch the fire burn down to embers, Tyke goes to lie down.
"Get a good night's sleep," you tell him.  "Tomorrow after breakfast we're going exploring."
>The young colt yawns and rubs his eye.
>"I can't wait," he says with a smile.
>As he goes to turn in, he pokes his head out of the tent flap for a brief moment.
>"I love you, dad," he said before disappearing back inside.
>That really tugged at your heart strings.
>For most of his young life, you've been there with his mother but he's never actually called you 'dad'.
>The achievement you've made this day is one to remember for years to come.

>Come Sunday, the two of you pull in to the driveway at the house with Tyke's mother waiting for you.
>Tyke leaps out of the open window as the car comes to a halt.
>"Mom!" he calls as he runs to hug her.
>"Hey!" she greeted.  "Did you and Anon have fun?" she asked.
>"It was the best!" answered Tyke.
>As you pull some gear out of the back, you walk up to your wife.
>She stands on her hind legs and you give her a hello kiss.
>"How was it?" she asked.
>You think for a second about what to say.
>"Better than expected," you finally say with an affirmative nod.
>"I'm glad," replied.
>Tyke went trotting past with the tent to go inside.
"We're gonna have to do this every chance we get," you continue.  "Lord knows when he becomes a teen that this won't happen as much anymore."
>"Well that sounds wonderful," answered you wife as she turned to go inside.
"Aren't you gonna help me carry all this stuff inside?" you ask.
>She turns and gives you a smirk.
>"I think the big man can handle it," she says before entering the house.
>A grin appears on you face as you grab the gear and head on in.