water baby

Dave and I took Jake to the beach last Saturday as a practice run for our big weekend in Ocean City at the end of the month. We figured that he would be scared to death of the freezing cold water, so we let him walk to the shoreline all by himself. Of course we were ten inches behind him, but Mr. Independent likes to be a bit ahead of us. I think he is embarrassed to be seen on the beach with his old mom and dad.

When the first wave hit his toes he squealed a bit, so we assumed that he would run away from the second one so we didn't bother to hold his hand or grab him by the back of his shirt.

Wrong. Never assume anything about that monster. The brat dove head first into the next wave and thankfully came up laughing.

He was afraid of the Merry-Go-Round, so he isn't all that brave after all. When we go down there next time I'm making him ride it again and again until he stops clinging to my collarbone and digging his little toes into the waistband of my shorts. Little punk.