Roby went swimming for the first time today. The water was brown around us, and now she’s rosy pink. Around her eyes and across her arms the sun kissed her while we swam and after, while we dried off. Archie swam after the ball, and he did it badly. He’s too boney to swim well, he puts too much power into every stroke, so he wobbles and is too vertical, but he loves it. 

Roby and Archie tried to nap in the car, Roby succeeded, Archie did not. Neither of them got as much sleep today as they usually do, bless them, but they’re sleeping now. Roby in bed and Archie on the couch, because it’s too hot in the closet where he usually spends the night. 

Late June’s too late for the first swim, but I’ve been busy, summer’s a busy time. I might try to go swimming tomorrow, somewhere closer and I’ll bring Archie too. It won’t be as hot, and that’ll be nice. 

I want Roby to be good enough at swimming that I can toss her into the water, that’s really all I care about in the whole world. There’s a whole universe of context that would allow that to happen, and if it happens, I’ll have had it made. And I’m likely to.