Today it felt like summertime in Baltimore. Our pool is open, so I asked Conor if he wanted to swim tonight. He said yes, jumped into the clear, blue water, and then quickly leapt out.
Guess it's still a wee bit chilly in there. So he reclined on the hard-but-warm cement to take the chill out of his bones.
"Want Mommy to swim with Conor!" he asked.
"Nah, it's too chilly for me, C," I replied. I don't get in the pool until August and only then if it's over 100 degrees outside. I hate the water as much as Conor loves it.
"Want to make Kalihari soup!" he declared emphatically, staring at me.
"Who's Kalihari?"
"A girl at school," he replied in a quiet voice.
"So do you want to talk to me about being mad that I won't get into the pool," I said, "or do you want to keep yelling about Kalihari?"
"Want to make Kalihari soup!" he repeated, this time a little more vehemently.
Yeah, that's what I figured.
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