Corngratulations are in Order

 After visiting the von Trapps, Lizzie and I stopped to take on a corn maze.  There was an older woman and a teenage boy at the admissions kiosk, and the older woman told us that there had been bears coming up to the river behind the corn maze at about this time (it was 4pm) but that as of yet no bears had made it into the corn maze.  Reassuring.  Lizzie asked if they had any advice, and the teenage boy said in a kind of booming and terrifying voice, "IF YOU CAN MAKE IT TO THE BRIDGE YOU CAN MAKE IT OUT."

Not if the bears find us first.

We started by just going left, and eventually were forced into a dead-end, and on the way out of the dead end, we passed by a man whose children were pooping in the corn rows. (We knew because we heard rustling in the stalks, and a little boy standing near his father said "they're pooping" while giggling, and Dad gave us a creepy affirmative chortle.)  No.  Don't do that.  I don't know what happens to the corn in this maze, but what if people are going to eat it?  Pop-Corn, not Poop-Corn.

As most things do, this started off really fun, but kinda began to stress us out about 10 minutes in.  We eventually did find the bridge, and went up to navigate, but ended up turned around several times, sometimes following the dragon flies without another good idea of what to do.  Eventually, I began an earnest prayer to the corn god.  We were cornfused, in a maize of sin, and only the corn gods, with their delicious bread, could lead us out, and just a few moments later, we arrived at the exit.  It only took us 20 minutes, which is probably a Shannon and Lizzie world record, if not a corn maze world record.  We did not have to call the fire department to chopper us out, and we did not give up and decide to live in the poop-filled corn rows.

Hallelujah.