Score.

Robs and I went hiking last week. It was beautiful and very hot and very dusty. I noticed Robs' little red cheeks and thought about turning around... But then, as fate would have it, someone passed us and said loudly to his son (who was behind us) "COME ON! YOU'RE REALLY GOING TO LET THAT GIRL BEAT YOU?" 
"That girl" was my six years old red-cheeked-pirate. And I thought the comment was kind of rude. And it was really bright outside... and hot and dusty. And when all those elements combined my ego ruffled her pretty little feathers and whispered... "Um. Yes."

Only they didn't let us beat them... We just did.  Think Tortoise and Hare. They'd run past our slow moving feet and take a break. But during their break our slow moving feet would take the lead. It went on and on for five switch backs: they'd run, we'd sneak past, they'd run, we'd sneak past, they'd run... Until that last turn. They sat themselves down in the shade of the scrub trees and turned their backs while Robs and I took our slow moving feet to the top, Thankyouverymuch. I was rather proud of Robs and her little red cheeks.

And it was kind of fun, you know... WINNING.