On Sunday afternoon I took a walk along the lovely Ocean Beach, and came across this scene:
A woman sitting on a rock holding tightly to a little girl, looking dry and cold while watching a boy joyfully scamper around at the water's edge. He was in a tank top and skivvies, bounding in and out of the retreating waves and clearly getting more and more wet. He was grinning from ear to ear. As I walked by, the woman said: "come on, Mijo... it's getting cold!" He appeared not to hear her at all.
It reminded me of a day at the beach many years ago, when Ellie and Bill were visiting. The kids must have been tiny since Ellie and Bill haven't visited us in over 750 years. As I recall, this was the very day of their arrival, and we took ourselves directly to the beach, as we are wont to do. Ellie and my Bill and my fine self were lounging and reading and drinking and probably eating pretzel dicks while Mistah Uncle Schlekah Himself took the kids down to this very rock jetty for some photos. It was Fathers Day, a typically overcast June gloomy OB day, so the kids were in clothes rather than bathing suits. Naturally, they returned to me soaked down to the skin.
My boy hadn't a care, but my girl was a bit concerned that I'd be unhappy about her being drenched. As she walked up, she gave me that look of hers and before I could even open my mouth to exclaim or proclaim or whatever I'd have ended up doing, she gestured to indicate her wet bod and wide grin and said: "Uncle Bill said that's what it's all about."