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There is a boat in my back yard.  A useless rowboat.  With no oars.  And it is said there may be holes in this boat.  Don’t ask why we don’t get rid of this boat.  I’m in favor of upcycling it and turning it into an awesome water fountain or something, or planting flowers in it.  But I’m the stupid one in the house.

Moving on…

Naturally, sitting in the back of the yard, not turned upside down, this monstrosity fills with water.  (Hmmm…maybe it DOESN’T have holes…) The water is irresistible to my children.  Which would be fine (kind of) if it was 102 degrees outside.  No, that’s not when it’s fun to play in the water.  It’s fun to play in the boat water when it’s fifty-two degrees outside.

Thankfully, New England IS warming up, but I would still prefer my children not to play in the vile, stagnant boat water.

Allie got dressed yesterday to play outside.

You don’t have much time before it’s time for your rest,” I told her.  “Rest” is the word we use in place of nap.  The word nap sends her into a full blown meltdown where she’ll scream, “But the sun’s out!” until her throat is raw.

“Okay,” she said, happily.

“And stay OUT of that water!” I cautioned.

“I will!” she assured me.  “Hear that Daisy,” she said to our one year old chocolate lab, that was headed outside with her.  “No, water!”  She wagged her finger at the dog to prove a point.

Those two are like sisters/twins/partners in crime/evil cohorts.

“Never mind Daisy!  YOU, no water.”

“No water, Daisy!” she reiterated.

She was outside for all of ten minutes.  I peeked outside, expecting her to be playing on the new swing set my husband spent weeks putting together for them, and obediently staying out of the water.

Clearly, I’ve never dealt with a three-year-old before.

When I peeked outside, she was no where to be found.

“Allie Elizabeth?” I screamed out the back door.

Silence.  Any parent of a three-year-old knows silence is deadly.

Finally, she replied, quietly, from somewhere out behind the garage that I couldn’t see.  “……Yeah, Mom?”

“Are you playing in that WATER?!”


“You better NOT be!”

“I’m not!”

“Where are you?”

“Umm……I play outside, Mom!”

I start walking towards the back of the garage.  She’s up to no good.  She’s done everything but give me that smile that speaks volumes about her actions.

There she was, out back, muddy, filthy, and drenched, playing in the boat water.

That was enough of that.  Directly back inside to go down for a “rest.”  And that was her ten minutes outside.