Another nutty weekend with Evans boys. Henry thought one of the fresh green muscadine vines on the back porch looked like a promising swing and I reminded him that it wouldn't hold his weight and he would undoubtedly hurt himself. "That's OK," he says, "I'm tough." Later in the day he falls in the parking lot across the street and skins one knee and the palm of one hand so slightly that the abrasions are barely visible. He runs screaming into the yard ahead of Mom, sounding as though he had just suffered a compound fracture or perhaps cracked a couple of ribs. Not just a little whimpering cry, but an inconsolable howling that went on for minutes. I'm tempted to remind him that it's OK, you're tough.
Meanwhile Neil the water lover has discovered his own personal, mobile pool. We had left the wagon out in the rain so that it had several inches of water in it. Neil loves this wagon anyway and goes to it when nothing else in the yard will do. Imagine his delight when he finds that his favorite toy is full of his favorite element. He splashes around in it for a while, sort of stirring the water, then decides what the heck and climbs in. Now he has the satisfaction of pulling the wagon to different locations around the yard as the sun or his whims lead him, thus enjoying diverse views from his pool. We normally dump the water out after a rain, but I think we may have to rethink this and just change it periodically.
And Parker God bless him has been studying for final exams. What perverse bureaucratic mind arranged for 7th graders to take final exams the two days after a holiday weekend? I've been encouraging him to finish strong, to finish like Mine That Bird, his response being "Yeh, finish like a castrated horse." Despite this apparent lack of appreciation for the beauty of thoroughbred racing, I'm sure he'll do fine.