"Why don't you take Tripp to the park?" Katherine suggested after breakfast. He had picked delicately at some scrambled eggs and managed a few hesitant bites of sausage.
"Is it spicy?" he had asked, his blue eyes narrowed.
"No, it's not spicy at all," his mother said reassuringly.
"It's not spicy?"
"No, in fact it's sweet," Katherine said.
"It's sweet, not spicy?"
"That's right," I echoed. "Not spicy, sweet."
"Oh!" said Tripp, stiffening in his seat.
"What?" I asked.
"An ant! Get it!" A speck the size of a freckle was scurrying along the perimeter of Tripp's Color-a-Mat fire engine placemat.
I put my finger down to the ant, which crawled on board as Tripp shrank back quivering.
"It's just a little creature," I explained.
"Oh, boy, here we go," Katherine said, feeding Ollie a peach, some egg, sausage and granola.
"...And I'm just going to put him outside so he can find his little ant friends."
"Why?"
"Because an ant has just as much right to exist as we do."
Tripp followed me outside where, after releasing the ant onto the deck I pointed out the small stone Buddha that Tripp's Uncle Will had given me.
"The Buddha taught that all beings should be honored and protected, even ants."
"But why?" Tripp asked. He placed his hands on the stone statue, as if to lift it.
"Careful, Kiddo," I said. "It's heavy."
"I think it is not," declared Tripp.
*
After turning the handle to raise and lower the large green umbreya a few times, after sitting in each of the four wrought iron chairs, having artfully avoided anything moving, be it ant or infinitesimal fly (or anything wet) that might potentially threaten bodily harm, we were ready for a jaunt to the park.
Tripp wore his khaki shorts, red, white and blue sneakers, his blue polo shirt with the color turned up just so, and his purple shades.
"What are you doing to yourself?" Tripp inquired, as I hopped on one foot around the mudroom trying to pull on a tennis sock.
"It's a tennis sock," I explained.
"Why?"
*
"What shall we do first?" I questioned when we had reached the green expanse of the park. "The slide? The tire swing? The sand box?"
"I think the tire swing."
I lifted my grandson onto the large black rubber tire, reminding him to hold on tight and began to push.
"Spin me, Beauma!"
"Okay! How's this?" I asked, rotating the swing first in one direction, then the other. I pointed out the skate park, the pool and the young female lifeguard who was readying the pool vacuum.
A look of consternation crossed Tripp's face as he swiveled his head toward the menacing red plastic coil.
"She's not going to vacuum near us," I said hastily.
"I don't want it," Tripp said.
"No problem," I said.
"Faster, Beauma!"
"You got it."
"No, slow down, Beauma!"
"Okay!"
"I want to go on the slide!"
"Great!"
"The water spout!" Tripp bellowed, having dismounted and zipped full speed, blue sneakers flashing toward a curved grey plastic slide attached to a wooden platform with tunnels, and a shaky bridge, ladders, rings and several types and heights of blue plastic slides.
He approached the partially covered grey slide from the bottom, which did indeed resemble a water spout, and began to crawl inside. From above came the muffled order, "Sing, Beauma! Sing the Itsy Bitsy Spider!"
"What, now?" I called, glancing around.
"Yes! Sing Itsy Bitsy Spider right now!"
"Can you ask nicely?"
"May you pease sing Itsy Bitsy Spider right now!"
I bent down and began to sing, "The itsy bitsy spider went up the water spout," as the spider unexpectedly emerged at the bottom of the spout, turned and began to inch its way up again.
"Again, Beauma!"
"The itsy bitsy spider..."
"If you stick your head inside, it will really be loud," a nearby mother volunteered.
We played this game until other children began to want their turns, and the spider became agitated, waving its arms and declaring it was HIS slide, and had to be carried off to a quiet place to discuss sharing.
Ollie and I are ready to join you! Katherine texted.
"Okay, how about a few minutes in the sand box, and then we can go and get Mommy and Ollie?"
"No!"
"You can play with the trucks for a little bit, and then we'll go get Ollie and Mommy and come back."
"Right now?"
"Well, sort of, but we might want to get a picnic first."
"No, but I mean can we come back to the park right now?
*
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