Well, glory be! It's a summer solstice miracle! It was 49 degrees when I drove you to school yesterday, but by the time I picked you up, it was 76 and beautiful.
For our afternoon outing, I took you to the Frenchtown Pond so we could play in the water with your toys. Since your pants were getting wet, I took them off. It wasn't long before you noticed the playground in the distance and took off running in your baby Crocs and diaper. I had to have that same conversation that I sometimes have to have with your dad: "When it comes to going outside or interacting with the public, pants are NOT optional."
I caught up with you halfway through this field and wrestled you into your back-up pants.
I'm not exaggerating when I say that there were eighty kajillion kids on that playground. You didn't hesitate for a minute to charge right in. There was a group of boys who looked to be about five or six, running around with toy machine guns, blasting each other. One boy was dressed in an all-camo outfit, and as he put his gun into his over-the-shoulder holster, I heard him yell to another boy, "Tell 'em I'm comin' in HOT!" I wanted to yell, "WHO ARE YOUR PARENTS?? And can I please buy you a 'Backyardigans' box set so you can quit watching 'Platoon' on Blu-ray?"
One boy got too close to you on the swinging bridge with his gun, and you shoved your palm into the end of his gun and hollered "NO!" Not in a I'm-a-hippie-who-disagrees-with-violence kind of way, but more of a I'm-getting-tired-of-your-macho-crap kind of way.
Man, I was proud.
Love,
Mom
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