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The weather has turned decidedly spring-like since last week. By decidedly spring-like I mean that it’s temperamental and can change at the drop of a hat. It was cloudy and blah one day last week, but as we finished up our dinner, the sun had come out and it was gorgeous and sunny outside. I said, “Screw the dishes!*,” and we went out to the lake to enjoy the nice weather.
I had the boys wear their firefighter rain boots so that they could stomp around a bit in the shallows. I wore mine as well so I could get some photos of the boys at play. I reminded them not to sit in the water (it’s still rather cold) and not to splash each other too much.
They were thrilled to be splashing.
And I was thrilled to watch them play together — without arguing. I was snap-snap-snapping when I saw it start to happen.
BigBrother was getting brave. He kept taking steps into the water. First one step. And then two. I called him back to the shore. I told him that he would get wet and that the water was still too cold. He listened. For two minutes. And then slowly but surely he began inching forward. LittleBrother is not tentative in the water, but he was just happy to be stomping in the water and was thus oblivious to his older brother’s wading. But that BigBrother, he loves his freedom and he’s as stubborn as they come.
I warned him, but I didn’t pull him back. He was in no immediate danger. It was windy and the water was choppy, but he wasn’t going to be pulled out to sea just because he stepped too far into the lake. I warned him one last time. And he stood still for a bit.
And then he took one more step.
And the choppy little ankle-biter waves washed right over the top of his firefighter rain boots.
His face was priceless, though I missed the immediate aftermath because I may have said, “Now, I told you.” That’s right. I busted out my family’s favorite line. But it was the darn right perfect time to do it.
He looked up at me with sad eyes and said, “My socks are wet.” I kind of wanted to say, “No poop, Sherlock,” but I said, “Well, Mommy warned you. Now you have to choose whether to go home earlier than planned or stand here with wet socks.” He chose to go home… which ticked off his brother, mind you.
It’s kind of hard — but also sometimes very funny — to watch your kids (safely) learn life lessons. He apparently wasn’t going to believe me that he was going to end up with wet socks until it happened, so I just let it happen. Of course, then I had to handle nasty wet socks later, so it’s not like I didn’t get mine too. But in the end, it was worth it.
Hopefully he remembers the lesson. (The lesson being listen to your mommy because she knows what she’s talking about — not don’t walk too deep into the water or it will wash over your firefighter rain boots. Though that’s a good lesson too.)
[* = I didn't actually say "screw the dishes" out loud. And I did eventually wash them. Promise.]
My name is Jenna, aka FireMom. I blog here, 
