Just in case you think we've forgotten about our oldest son (we haven't, honestly), he wants to let you know that he's having a wonderful and amazing time at the beach with Grammy. So wonderful, in fact, that he would prefer to forget about us.
When Grammy called to say hello the other night, she tried to get him to come to the phone and say hello. He had willingly talked to us when they called late into the very long drive to let us know they were almost there (twelve hours later). That was then, clearly, and this was now. I think he seriously thought we might be somewhere close by and ready to take him away from this heaven he suddenly found himself in. He's nicknamed it "BeachPool" (which is one word, if you're wondering).
He has already spent several wonderful days from early in the morning to late at night coercing (I mean nicely asking) Grammy, Aunt Lynn, and cousins Kay-dee, Josh, Jof-seph and Brid-gee (his new name for Brigid) to take him to the water. Either one, the ocean or the pool, would do, but his clear preference is for the pool. The sand is apparently "dirty" and "yucky," which doesn't surprise me much. And, to add to his already ridiculous obsession with the water, the balcony to their condo is apparently right over the swimming pool! My poor baby, what a temptation. And our poor relatives, they probably wish it would close for repairs, at least for a day or two.
So, let's just say that Connor is doing quite well. And, if he doesn't make it home for a few weeks or even months, that would probably suit him just fine. I imagine there will be tears when he returns. Not of joy from seeing his brothers and parents again after a long absence, but of absolute despair, that all the fun in the world is suddenly over.
At three, you would probably think so, too.
