Reasons Like Seasons

"Mommy, watch this!" he yells from across the pool. Jump. Splash. He disappears beneath the surface. One-one-thousand. I remember bringing him home from the hospital, wrapped up tight like a blue baby burrito. Two-one-thousand. On his first birthday, he was running down the sidewalk with Grandpa trying (unsuccessfully) to catch him. Three-one-thousand. When he first started preschool, he cried when I left him there and cried some more when I picked him up. Four-one-thousand. He stared at his baby brother when he was born, wrinkled his face, then asked if he could go home with Noni to watch Netflix. Five-one-thousand. Splash! He shakes his head, erupting from the water. "Mommy, could you see me?" "Yes, baby. Of course I could see you ."

Dear Adorable Ducklings, While I admire your fluffy, cute feathers and am thankful you have not lost your lives to any roaving feral felines, I would greatly appreciate if you would not continue to leave your droppings all over the bottom of the pool. It is gross. Plus, there are a multitude of other places where you can eliminate pesonal waste without rendering my swimming area unusable. If you are unable to meet this request of mine unaided, then perhaps I could assist in finding you another role to play in this great big world of ours. Please respond with your decision before school is officially out for the summer. I anticipate my patience will have worn out by that point. Sincerely, RL