A few things that happened today…
Sarah has successfully taught Rachel how to play “How Big is Rachel?”, whereupon the latter squeals with delight and obediently raises her arms above her head. Rachel's other recent trick is to grab at anything in reach. Like she’s suddenly discovered she has hands.
Sarah ran on the dock today for the first time since she turned her ankle on the library stairs last week. I say she’s healed. Running on the dock is strictly forbidden, but yet somehow deeply ingrained into children. I was cured of running on docks when I was about her age. My younger brother and I were sent late one night to use the facilities up at the bathhouse of some marina in the Keys. We were very well-behaved on the way up, but on the way back it seemed necessary to race. In the heat of the race, my brother took a short cut and ran straight off the sea wall. It was about six feet down to the water and he came up hollering. My only real memory of the incident is an image of my poor dad hanging three-quarters over the wall and my mom holding onto his feet. I shudder to think we may have to do that someday.
Sam tried to choke on a Life Saver. Of course he failed, but it was still interesting. I always wondered. During the melee, Rachel, who was riding on Tanya’s back at the time, grabbed a big knife off of the kitchen counter and held it Psycho-style behind Tanya’s head. That was the missed photo opportunity of the week.
The carpenter has finished replacing the floors in our port bathrooms, and a new Raritan Sea Era electric freshwater toilet arrived today to replace the old Jabsco. This toilet is a different footprint from the Marine Elegance I have already serenaded, but I expect it to be equally uncloggable. To start with, we’re skipping the fancy programmable flush buttons and going with simple momentary switches. That’s the most effective way we’ve found to manage tank capacity in the starboard forward head.
Our marina is getting a new dockmaster. We’ve been through this before, but it always gives me a bit of anxiety. Which rules will he choose to enforce?
Given all her daily activities, Tanya often leaves an unfinished load or three in the laundry room. Protocol is for anyone who needs the machines to remove the offending articles and leave them on the folding table. Occasionally a kind soul, usually a grandmotherly type, will move the clothes to the dryers or fold them. But today Tanya returned to the laundry room only to find our curmudgeonly Irish friend folding Rachel’s “f*****g” diapers. Apparently he drew the line at folding my underwear, which suits me fine.