All weekend, I heard the same thing from Jilly: “I’m going to drown“.

At her swimming class a few days prior, her teacher had pulled me aside and said that she’d like to take the flotation (aka, the bubble) off of Jilly because she was more than ready to let it go.

Actually, she had been more than ready to let it go this summer, and spent most of her pool days swimming without one, jumping into the deep end without any flotation at all.

But, at swim lessons, with all those laps? She wanted that bubble.

So, I endured nights of everything from “please let me wear my bubble“, to “fine! I guess I’ll just go and drown!” (followed by a little toss of the head). I wasn’t completely unsympathetic; I’d point out the number of lifeguards and the lane markers that would be right next to her while she swam. Heck, her teacher told her she could use a noodle to swim with for the first few classes!

But, on Monday, as we walked toward the pool, she wasn’t buying any of it. “Goodbye. I’m going to drown now,” she said as she stalked away toward her teacher.

Yeah, whatever. She did great. And, she even managed to look both proud and a little sheepish after class.

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My sister’s Father-in-Law came up to me at our annual fourth of July BBQ at the pond and told me he had been talking to D.

Now, this is notable because just a few months ago, D wouldn’t talk to anyone without some coaxing, plus his speech was often too difficult to understand.

Oh, for those days. . .

Because, FIL said (while laughing, thank goodness), “D came over and told me, “Wow, you have a fat belly!“”

Awesome.

I blushed, apologized (which was waved off with a “well, I DO have a fat belly!”) and found D.

“Honey, please, only nice words. Don’t tell Poppy that he has a fat belly. That might hurt his feelings.”

A few minutes later, I found out how my little pep talk had affected D.

“I now going to call you Mr. Fat Belly!”

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We’ve got an idea for a story. Don’t worry, it isn’t too much of a stretch:

Don’t Let The Turkey Drive The Motorcycle

“Oh look! There’s even a helmet left behind!”

“C’mon! Pretty please?”

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