Pooping in the woods

One my truly great pleasures is taking my six-year-old daughter hunting. She likes to hunt just as much as I do and it provides us with another opportunity for quality father/daugther time. The only problem with taking my six-year-old daughter hunting is she's six and she's a girl. Nothing against girls and them hunting, I'm all for it, but things work a little different for them.
Wearing a pair of jeans, her velvet looking zip-up boots, a pink Barbie jacket cover by an orange vest my daughter simple state she was ready to go hunting. I had already packed up enough gear for a 10-day expedition to the Artic, so in some senseI was read to go too. One of her great pleasures is riding the 4-wheeler with me and he makes sure to tell me to hit every mud hole on the way in. I did.
The spot I took her too is an elevated shooting house that has plenty of room and is a likely spot to see a wandering whitetail. I started off by hauling all of our gear up and in the stand. She piled in next as we got ready for the hunt. We'd already discussed the rules: Be safe and Be quiet. We accomplished one of our two goals. We were safe.
We'd been in the stand all of 3 minutes before the first question came, "Are there any bears out here?"
"No bears," I said.
"Do you think these deer like salad, because there sure is a lot of green stuff out there," she quipped.
"They'll love it," I said.
"We should have brought them some ranch dressing," she fired right back.
"I think we're okay without it ... and remember we have to be quiet," I whispered.
We spent the next 10-minutes getting her binoculars adjusted so she could see. That was probably the quietest 10-minutes of the trip.
Just prior to our hunt I made her go to the bathroom ... twice. This isn't the first time I've taken her hunting and she's got the bladder of a six-year-old girl.
"Daddy, I got to use it," she said.
"Adeline I thought I told you to go before we left," I answered back.
"I did, but I didn't have to then," she replied.
"Well ... there's only about an hour of daylight left do you think you can hold it?," I pleaded.
"But daddy, I got to go No. 2," she said with a puzzled look.
Going No. 1 in the woods with my daughter is one thing, but No. 2 is a whole different game. So, we piled out of the stand and I got her ready to do her business. I happened to look back as she was about to do No. 2 right in front of the ladder that leads to the shooting house.
"Adeline, don't go there somebody will step in it," I said frantically.
"But daddy, if i go in the bushes a bear my get me," she said.
"There are no bears, just get behind that bush and hurry up," I said in a loud whisper.
Needless to say we didn't see a deer. In fact, other than us, I don't remember seeing anything else in the woods.
We slowly made our trek back to the 4-wheeler only to find it with a dead battery. It was about dark and she was about to wig out at the prospects of staying out in the woods all night long. I assured her we wouldn't have to and that she'd have to get tough.
She did get tough and made the walk without a whimper as long as I promised snacks when we got back to camp.
Back at camp I loaded her up on snacks and we and retrieved our 4-wheeler. Got it cranked and loaded it on the trailer. With Adeline fat, full and happy we made our way back home. As we pulled into the drive way, I was tired and semi-cranky after the long day. Right before she got out of the truck she said, "Daddy, I sure do like it when we go hunting ... don't you?"
Yes darlin I sure do.