In an attempt to squeeze the last drop of summer out of the year we headed North to a nearby lake for some swimming and a picnic over Labor Day weekend. The kids excitedly approached the beach and immediately hesitated once the cold water touched their skin. Standing there it became obvious that they were frozen both by the water temperature as well as the visual sights surrounding them. Totally exposed bras, wife beaters, ripped cut offs, tattoos, rolls of flesh, smoke blowing in our faces, rough brawls, and foul language were just a few of the sights common to the area. My kids are not sheltered as I have my nostril pierced and am currently sporting a silver hoop however, this was more raw concentrated entertainment than they are accustomed to. After witnessing a young kid take a fisted punch to the face by another youth, my older son looked back at me with a grimace as he mouthed “that’s gotta hurt!” My youngest son’s mouth hung open in disbelief as he clung closely to his brother. Seeing enough and apparently bored by it all, our daughter grabbed my hubby and off they ran to the volley ball nets to get in some practice before her next game leaving me and the boys to fend for ourselves. I was fully prepared to correct the youngest, who I knew would readily repeat the F word and the other colorful language he was hearing but he did not let any words fly that day. He’s probably saving those bright words for his Sunday school class or church service where he can catch everyone off guard! I can just see the disapproval on the faces of the church members as they look at us with shock and disbelief for speaking such words in the home because how else would he become familiar with them…right? Things are not as they always appear people.
A few hours had passed we were cold, sand covered and ready to say good-bye to summer and head to the comfort of our home. Pausing briefly by our car we set up a discreet changing station for the boys to quickly shed their wet suits in exchange for some dry clothing. I wasn’t too concerned about the youngest because he is still young and carefully changing him in public is somewhat acceptable. My older son, on the other hand, is an entirely different story. I was careful to cover all of the visual gaps and instructed him to fly like the wind. I was not not aware that there were people in the car parked directly beside us. My back was toward their car but I heard the lady loudly exclaim “OH, MY it’s like a WEENIE convention around here!!” Shocked, I turned prepared for a response. It was then that I saw the three little Dachshunds prancing in front of our cars and realized she was referring to them, not my boys!! My daughter and hubby burst into fits of laughter at the look on my face. The boys giggled and wiggled their weenies and more!