I told her I had a small multi-tool in my purse with pliers on it if she wanted to use it. She looked at me funny, for some reason. So I offered her my pocket knife. Then I just offered to take over the grilling if she’d like. I also pulled two deep tin dishes out of my car to hold the cooked hot dogs. Just so you know, I do not usually grill. I’m never making that much food at once, or feeding that many people. Adding more charcoal when you can’t remove the grill was interesting. As was the fact that it was impregnated with go-juice.
I got some interesting reactions. Some shrank away – one kid in particular said “is that a POCKET KNIFE?!!11??” while skimming past the hot grill. And another stood at the prescribed safe distance and said “Hey! Is that a Gerber?” (It was.) “My first knife was a Gerber! Got any SOGs? Those are my favorite!” (I do.)
Sixty hotdogs later, my very hot knife was returned to my pocket. Thank goodness for the plastic on the handle.
After that, kids who had permission to go wading with their shoes on got to go fishing. I found that one way of hushing the loud adults who were countermanding the instructions of the park ranger was to inform them that they may be standing in poison ivy. That distracted them for a bit.
And the view over the creek was lovely.