I walked to pick up my kids from school, another successful year of sports, educational toys and activities having been crossed off my list. Summer vacation was upon us and I was elected camp director for 2 months, having met the stringent requirement of a heartbeat and not being present for the vote.

Some may have been amused by the conspiracy, certainly the Cheshire cat grins on Jack 5, and Charlotte 7 were a clue, but the ear plugs and aspirin my wife gave me along with the first aid kit made me feel like the petrified slave awaiting his fate in the Coliseum tunnel in the move Gladiator.

Well, the joke would be on them I countered. The kids thought discipline would vanish like Harry Potter on his Quadrics broom, and my wife pictured me tied like Rocky and Bullwinkle to a train track with 6 weeks still to go.

I knew I would face near mutiny if I tried to run an NFL style training camp, my preference, so I decided on a Meatballs meets Jacques Cousteau approach instead.

My objective was to keep up their learning but without the obvious educational toys that were a part of our activities the rest of the year, and also to let them have some unwind time and unstructured time that would test their imagination and organizational skills.

My first hurdle was their attention span. At that age it lasts about as long as they can keep one of Dad's secrets from Mom. So I decided that we needed to keep moving, but not in a hot, noisy polluting car. No we would go green and bicycle everywhere this summer. My rationale was that we would come across a playground every 30 minutes, a street corner every 2 minutes and a new question every 7 seconds. A perfect match for their active minds.

I would let our environment be our curriculum. Our first excursion was to the heart of our pretty little city, the beach. No problem I thought, we lived on top of a big hill only 10 blocks away. Heck, we could pack our swimsuits, towels and a lunch, there was lots of room in my backpack. So off we went.

Well, our first stop was -- the end of our court. A stop sign at the end of a quiet street which I always rode through without stopping, after looking both ways of course. "Stop Jacky, Stop" yelled Charlotte, evidently the only one mature enough to follow the rules of the road. Jack slammed his pedals backwards, threw his bike to the ground and thrust himself forward like he was running from the dentist. "Jacky, you have to stop at a stop sign, and you too Daddy", Charlotte said, making me feel 5 years old and 3 feet tall. "I didn't see it Charlotte", was Jack's excuse, I was frantically reviewing a series of them in my head to see which one might suffice. It was no use, I was as defenseless as a husband who had forgotten his anniversary. Best to take my lumps and make it up, big time. "You are absolutely right Charlotte", I said and proceeded to lecture them both on the rules of the road.

So off we went, down, down, down, coasting, braking, looking, stopping and coasting some more, all the way to the beach. This was great I thought. It was a hot day so a visit to the water park was due. As Jack and Charlotte jumped and squealed in the cool spray, I sat with all the moms on a vetch reading a collection of People, Style, Better Homes and Gardens and Sports Illustrated.

Hunger was starting to set in, for me not the kids, so I yelled to them that they had 5 more minutes. Kids apparently don't understand regular conversation outside. We sat down on the grass and I pulled out our lunch, melted squished cheese and tomato on a bagel. "That smells like stinky feet", was Jack's observation. I had to agree and I quickly avoided any comments on its visual resemblances. "Dad, there's a hot dog cart over there", Charlotte pointed out. Without second thought I was slathering an assortment of mustard, ketchup, relish, onions, sauerkraut and hot peppers on 3 jumbo dogs. Energy replenishment I told myself, and since their mother was not their to provide a thorough nutritional analysis, I was making this executive decision.

Back on our bikes we cruised the boardwalk, mile after mile alongside the blue gray waters, boats sailing past, all the while the sun shining brightly. Suddenly Jack again performed one of his daredevil dismounts, this time seemingly unannounced.

Like an oasis in the desert, I stood there hot, sweaty and parched staring at one of the most beautiful sights I could have imagined, an ice cream stand. Without saying a word, only a coy glance amongst the 3 of us, we found ourselves in an all out sprint, with a roller derby finish. Charlotte, with her advantage of height over Jack and youth over me was the clear winner.

We sat on a bench entranced, enjoying our ice cream, the warm breeze off the lake, warm sunshine and the best years of our lives.

Now, just a quick call to Mom, you didn't think we were going to ride back up those hills and ruin a perfect day, did you?