We bought Sean and Allie a pool over the weekend. After some debate over its precise placement and just how long it would be sitting in the backyard crushing several thousand blades of grass to death, we set the pool up on Sunday afternoon.
Sean loves it. He was a little nervous about the small sliding board at first, but after his first trip down, he and the sliding board were buddies. He slides down, lands gently on his back, soaking his hair in the process, and triumphantly emerges from the water. "I all wet! I go down again."
Proving that he has inherited Jeff's tidiness genes (in addition to the overall physical cloning that seems to have taken place), Sean has to stop what he's doing to examine and fret over the debris in the pool. "That's a piece of grass," he says, pointing at the offending blade. "That's a bug." Fortunately I can placate Sean about this by removing a little of the gunk from time to time.
Sean is having a little trouble with the "and Allie's" part of the "Sean and Allie's pool" concept. He was incensed over Allie's only engagement with the pool thus far---dunking her feet in: "No, no, no!!! My pool!" (I'm always amazed at the solipsism of toddlers.)
Although Jeff and I are little nervous about our upcoming trip to the shore, we can't wait to play with the kids at the beach*. Sean should really love the ocean (but not the sand so much).
*Can you tell we're from South Jersey? It's the shore when you're talking about the geographic location (as in, "We're going down the shore for the weekend", and the beach when you're talking about the place with the sand and the ocean (as in, "When do you want to go to the beach?"). An important linguistic distinction!