Well. THAT was ineffective.

It's a balmy 93-degree real-feel outside, but I took the kids out for a walk after lunch anyway.

Large Fry asked if she could ride her bike.

Sure, as long as she wears her helmet.

The twin Fries announced that they could ride in the wagon Daddy got for them, as soon as I evicted the spiders and webs from it.

When did this walk turn into a drag?

As we trundled down the sidewalk and passed the house of our behind-the-rear-fence neighbor (our home is on a corner lot), Small Fry piped up, "Dat's da house I'm going to latewr."

I ignored it.

We didn't get halfway around my chosen route before I evicted the twins from the wagon, which was getting heavier with every step, and definitely not helped by Small Fry hanging her legs over the front of the wagon, scuffing her tennies on the sidewalk as we went along.  And Medium announced, "I'm getting da spiderwebs wif my duckie!"

Yay.  Please don't do that, honey.

We made a loop of the neighborhood and eventually were back on the same street we started out on, headed for home.

The behind-the-fence neighbors were out in their front yard as we walked by.  I exchanged pleasantries.  The kids waved.

As I parked the wagon by the shed in our back yard, Small Fry followed me.  "Okay, I've gotta go now."

"Why?"

"Becawse I don't wanna stay hewre wif you all da time."  She kicked at the long grass in the yard.  "I'm gonna go away."

"No, you're not."

I opened the kitchen door, and we all gratefully gasped in cool, refreshing air.  "If you leave, where will you go to cool off and be out of the sun?" I asked Small.

"I'll go in da neighbohwr's house," she said matter-of-factly.

I can't fight this logic.