On our vacation last week, we had pre-booked an excursion entitled, “4×4 Waterfall Escapade” on one of the islands. The description led us to believe that we would be taking Jeeps through the luscious rainforest, sampling sweet, scrumptious fruits from the native trees along the way, ending up at a plentiful flowing waterfall where we could play and swim under the splashing falls. Let’s just say after a two hour drive through shantytowns and questionable neighborhoods, the word, “escapade” was beginning to take on new meaning. We finally turned off the paved road and were led to shack blaring Bob Marley tunes where an old man with Rasta braids warned us that the waterfall was a little dry due to recent drought. I couldn’t help but chuckle as our escapade was now turning into quite the debacle. We slowly wound our way down the walking trail and around the bend to the waterfall…slightly more than a trickle but certainly not the thrashing flow as advertised. The adults on the tour all groaned and most headed back up the trail. Ready to join the pack and scrap the whole experience, I turned to see the kids stripping down to their suits and diving in. Luscious or not, they were there to swim in the falls…regardless of expectations (the mom in me then quickly tells them to keep their mouths closed fearing any water-borne illnesses!). I hear their calls begging me to join them and laugh it off. After a moment’s hesitation, I realize this is a once in a lifetime opportunity to do something extraordinary with my children. Right there in the Rasta rainforest I jump in the waterfall’s pool (lips closed tight) with my kids and feel incredible. When they look back I hope they remember that escapade…not because of the crazy long journey to get there or the disappointing size of the waterfall, but because of the fact that we were there swimming in that rainforest together.