As John braved the chilly evening, swimming out into deeper water with the older girls, Jane and I ran in and out of the shallows.
But before too long the two of us were chilly and had moved on to playing in the sand. Digging holes, building castles…
Me: “Look Jane! Now it has water all around it, like a castle with a moat, or an island.”
Soon Jane was cold, not even a sand library could keep her by the water, and off she went to the play structure at the edge of the beach.
Jane was happily playing on the slide.
Ivy, Clara and John were happily swimming out in the cold water.
A young park employee was happily(?) using a tractor to haphazardly move picnic tables about.
I was happily sitting on the sand.
And then Jane erupted with screams of terror.
“MOM! MOM! I scared! MOM! I scared!”
I ran to her side.
Jane pointed one little, shaking finger at the park employee, who was still bouncing about on a tractor, curly hair tucked under a bandanna, and cried:
“I scared of the pirate!!!”
She was so scared of the pirate.
She was so scared and I, her rotten mother, could hardly keep it together long enough to calm her down before dissolving into a fit of giggles on the beach.