Trying to wrangle kids from the beach is like trying to herd birds. They dart off in unexpected directions, squawking and circling until they land where they want to be in the first place.
It was memorial weekend and we were swimming at the small lake in town which had a cordoned off swim area. This is pre-covid. The sun was high in the sky and only a dozen people sat on towels or waded into the water. The small sandy area stretched out between sections of rocks and slimy weeds.
My five-year-old son was obsessed with catching the minnows that darted in the shallows. He’d brought a net to help him catch them. At first, he didn’t understand that those little slivers of silver were tiny fish, and then he was irate that they were so fast.
He waded through the water, swinging his net like a baseball bat. Then he and a couple of other little boys figured out how to trail the net in the water. I didn’t have the heart to tell him that the holes in the net were too big and the fish were slipping out no matter how fast he was or what technique he used.
He ranged up and down the shore, running at top speed. As long as he didn’t smack anyone with his net, going back and forth was great exercise.
Just as it was time to go, he managed to catch a dead fish. The fish was about an inch long. He held it in his fingers, informing me that the fish was just sleeping.
I told him to throw the fish in the weeds. I was then distracted by his sister who rolled in the sand while wet. She was shocked that sand stuck to her. The fifth time she did it, I was not nearly as amused.
My son meanwhile lent his net to the boys he’d met earlier and he was still helping them fish. They found and even bigger dead fish. This one the size of an apple.
Finally I got the kids and all our stuff to the car and made it home.
The first thing that happened after the lake was baths. I told my son to get naked and get upstairs.
The first thing that happened after the lake was baths. I told my son to get naked and get upstairs.
Off comes his baseball cap and out plops the little dead fish. He’d stuck it up in his cap so he could sneak it home.
I guess I should be happy that the apple sized fish didn’t end up in his hat too.
What unexpected things have your kids done?