Water Boy

I’m so fortunate to have a live-in Water Boy!

If there are potted azaleas not yet planted, he’s my guy. Two lengths of sod to keep alive, awaiting installment beside the stone slabs for the new pathway, I’m covered. At this point he knows which garden plants he can water “with a Gatorade shower”, and which require a more gentle touch. His enthusiasm for what I thought would be received as yet another chore is delightful. But then, he’s always been our Water Boy.

As a tot, he loved bath time and often spent up to an hour in the tub, transferring water from cup to cup, sinking boats with with waterfalls from different heights, and learning to hold his breath underwater long before most toddlers do. Sprinklers in the back yard were great afternoon fun until the summer that swim lessons finally began.

Once swimming, he’d stay in the pool for as long as we were willing. His second swim teacher, who set up elaborate obstacles for him to swim through, said she’d never seen a kid so comfortable underwater. He relished cannonballs, front flips and eventually diving from the low board. Undaunted by slides of any height or length, water parks soon became his favorite outings. Now the best fun he can fathom is riding ocean waves with his snowboard, a rare treat.

What ever made me think he’d balk at a chore involving water?!