One Fish, Two Fish

Oh, Internet, how I missed you!  Abby's cousin Callie was visiting for almost two weeks.  Between the scheduled playdates, summertime adventures and keeping track of two children (parents of two-plus children of the world, I have oogles of reverence you!), there hasn't been much time to blog.  

Correction: there has been time, but I chose to eat and nap instead.

So, what's new in Abby's world?

Swimming.

It appears we have another fish in the family.  Fish number one is my dear, golf-tanned (head, forearms, and lower legs only) husband.

As a kid, Greg jumped in the water during Memorial Day weekend, no matter how chilly the pool, and didn't emerge until it was time to attend school in the fall.  

On one occasion when Greg was about four-years old, he fell off of his bike and busted open his head.  His father rushed him to the hospital where the medical staff wanted to restrain him while the doctor sutured the wound.  Greg's dad said restraints were unnecessary; he simply told Greg that he needed to stay very still.

Four-year old Greg didn't move an inch and he soon was stitched proper.  Wait, it gets better.  He didn't cry.  Not a tear.  (I, on the other hand, would have had to been sedated or strapped to the table while screaming bloody murder.)

So, the doctor temporarily leaves the room and returns to find dear Gregory crying a river.  He thought Greg had fallen off the table.  When he asked what had happened, Greg's dad told the doctor that the nurse had just informed Greg that he couldn't swim for two weeks. 

Because the boy endured sutures to the head like a gladiator, the doctor vetoed the restriction and Greg the Fish was allowed to return to the water immediately.

Fast-forward nearly 30 years.  Greg and I held our breath putting Abigail in the pool, hoping she wouldn't protest so vehemently that her cries could be heard in the next county. It turns out she loves the pool!  This is some footage just after we plopped her in her float.