On Saturday afternoon, rested up from the wild morning, Zane went for a dip in the wading pool. I thought I’d play it cool and watch him from the shade of the nearby gazebo, but he wouldn’t have any of that. Apparently there’s some unwritten law that a Dad’s gotta be soaked by the kid or life is not fun. That’s ok, I got to squirt him with the water hose from time to time and exact my revenge (to which he’d run away and hide behind the gazebo, giggling).
At one point I looked away as he was climbing up the slide only to look back as he jumped from the top into the pool. This is a good three foot jump into only a few inches of water, not exactly a soft landing. But he did it again and again. He also jumped straight up in the pool and landed on his butt.
A few days ago I remembered my old water rocket. “Hey!” I realized, “I bet a certain kid I know would LOVE rockets.” After a trip to home depot and a half hour of repairs and enhancements it was ready to go. Zane had no idea what was up when I asked if he wanted to go play with rockets, but he’s up for pretty much anything, at any time. After the first shot he pretty much took over the operation. He didn’t get some of the finer points… water in the bottle, securing the bottle to the launcher …but everything else he picked right up. Zane would fetch the bottles, put the inner bottle on the launcher, the shell bottle over it, and then started pumping the air in. Another hour or two of practice and he’ll be able to start a water rocket club for pre-schoolers.