J and I went to the beach today. It was not a sunny or hot day. In fact, it looked like it might rain, but we went anyway. Unlike previous summers, when he was following our lead, or trying to understand being at the beach; today, he looked ready to create his own memories at the beach.
He enjoyed the feeling of the rain dampened sand on his feet. He tiptoed into Lake Michigan, “it’s cold, dada.” But we stayed and talked about what the lifeguard does. J wanted to know if someone could swim as far out as his eyes could see. I explained we couldn’t go past the lifeguard. And then I showed him how we could bury his feet in the sand. And then he’d announce, “lets go in the water!” His alphabet sleeveless shirt flew off his body as he ran. J then suggested, “let’s bury me from my neck to my toes.” When I acted worried that his body diappeared; he’d slowly get up as the sand broke off into falling squares, giggle and run to the lake. “J don’t throw the wet sand on me,” I’d say. We sat by the edge of the lake and made some “poop soup” with wet sand and lake water. J spotted a seagull and chased it til it set off in flight…and then we spent the remainder of our time spraying and re-spraying our feet to get the sand off of our toes. “Hey dad, how does the fountain have a sprayer that can spray our feet?” “Well J, what do you think?”