In the afternoons, after the day’s work is done, we have been taking a walk down Queen Street to Wilmer Park, and from there over to the Washington College pier, where there is a sad strip of sand that most of us would scoff at.
But the “beach” is like a wonderland to Alden and Kato, who don’t know any better. Impatient for the summer to come, Kato insisted on taking his first dip the other day.
The water was not warm. His lower lip trembled as he waddled around in the shallows. But he had no interest in coming out. It was clear that he was going to make the most of his first swim.
Moments later, you-know-who wanted to get in on the action.
Apparently, swimming in a sweatshirt is unseemly for a three-year-old.
Once Alden was properly (un)dressed, the rumpus could begin.
Eventually, Alden convinced Kato to strip down to his skivvies as well.
Only then did the little man start to question my parenting skills. I’m not sure if the chill caught up with him or if he was beginning to ask himself where all this liberal behavior was headed. We were only a few stops from Woodstock, after all. Alden did go full monty before we were through. But I’ll leave that sight to your imagination.
It does seem that summer is limping towards us, two steps forward, one step back.
