THE PLUNGE

I know so many of you, my devoted readers, have been holding on faithfully since my last post, which promised details of the fun day we had the day after the Fourth at the Chipp's. I am sorry to keep all 3 of you waiting for so long. So here are the long awaited details from our day of water fun. I should have blogged about it sooner, as my weak little brain has already started to forget the details. Here is what I can recall:

Andrew couldn't wait to go on the slide until he actually saw the thing. He was very hesitant, and climbed up and down the ladder several times until I finally told Uncle Justin to push him down. Cruel, I know, but just what little man needed to get him going. I know my son and knew he would love it once he tried it. Just like broccoli. So, of course, he was all about it after that, despite the freezing cold, just out of the hose water.

So, after sliding on the thing a few thousand times, with a short break to inhale a hot dog, out come the big guns-squirt guns-of course! Hillary had bought these really cool squirt guns at Target that carried a bottle of water on the end for ammunition. I always swore no child of mine would ever play with guns, but what the heck, it's only water, right? So off he goes squirting anyone and anything within range. We declared the patio a "safe zone," where exhausted and/or drenched grown-ups could find a moment of respite. I have rarely seen Andrew have so much fun, and where he got that frightening, diabolical laugh as he chased his victims around is beyond me. I am still having

nightmares about that laugh.

Well, all good things must come to the end and the beginning of the end of this day's fun occured when Uncle Brett, unintentionally of course, threw a ball at my head and ended up slamming it into Andrew's face instead. No I was not using Andrew as a human shield, I was helping him fill his water bottle. Anyway, some blood, many tears, and apologies later, we packed up and headed back to Utah. Needless to say, Andrew slept pretty much the whole way home, sweetly dreaming of giant slides and fun summer days.
Look closely at this pic to see poor Bubba's fat lip-his "war wound" from the afternoon of gunfighting.