Dads and kids

Today's scoot was all about dads and kids. I didn't even get out of the front yard before there was a sweet scene with our neighbor Chris and his kids Jack and Stella.

Jack, age 4, dressed in his Superman shirt (seems to be his current favorite superhero), was digging around the parking strip and told me there was a mystery animal in the hole in the ground. This is the same kid who put a trap over a hole down the street after a critter bit off part of a toy he dangled down the hole. According to Jack today's hole houses a mole. "How can you tell?" I asked him. He told me as he bent over the hole, "It smells like rotten butts." "Rotten butts?!" I asked. "NO! Rotten BUDS." "Oh, OK."

His dad stood by and chuckled at this exchange - the dad who helped him set up the trap and dig the tunnel for today's mystery animal, and who was gently offering suggestions to 9 year old Stella, who was attempting to climb a tree with her friend Mags.

When I got to the park, there were dads and young daughters all over the park, some playing soccer, the dads coaching and cheering on the sidelines. And there was this sweet little one who wanted to play basketball but was a little too short. Dad gave her a boost. She didn't make this basket, but I sense she will one day play with ease and confidence.

I rounded the corner from the park and saw this young boy washing the family car. His dad was there, in the back, but this little boy was intent on doing the job right with his dad.

These scenes put me in mind of my growing up years and time with my own dad. At first I felt resentful that I didn't get the kind of guidance these kids were getting. My dad didn't coach soccer or play basketball with me, and I never did learn to climb a tree.

But my dad gave me lots of instruction, now I think of it. He taught me to waterski, to row a boat, catch a fish, fly a kite, build a fire, toss a Frisbee, drive a car, play badminton, checkers, cribbage, and ping pong. He tried to teach me about the forest and plants and animals, but I was too girly in my younger years to spend time studying raccoon scat. But I learned a lot about the natural world in spite of myself, just by being around him.

When I got home, Chris was helping Stella out of the tree. She'd climbed up, but needed her dad to help her get her feet on the ground. Sometimes dads are good at that.


(A note on the photo -- didn't have the zoom on, so quality isn't the greatest, and I'm so curious about the reflection to the right of the people -- I had my sunglasses on, was the camera picking up that reflection? Doesn't seem likely....)