Today is splash day. Every wednesday is splash day, at Ethan and Jocelyn’s school during the summer.

Which means that in the morning, we put them right into their swimsuits so they can go and get right to the splashing when they arrive.

I got Jocelyn into her swimsuit and then went to check on Ethan, who was reported to be running around with his jammy shirt on and nothing else.* So I popped in his room where he was playing with his wooden train set (I have to qualify, because my god we have so many freaking train sets in this house), still half naked.

“Time to get your swimming suit on!”

“I don’t want to wear my swimming suit.”

“But then you won’t be able to play in the water. It’s SPLASH DAY!”

“I don’t want to splash. I don’t want to go back there EVER AGAIN.”

“You’ll miss out on all the splashing fun!”

“I’m ONLY going to have fun at the BEACH.”

(I’ve been preparing them for our upcoming trip to the beach. Perhaps I’ve overdone it.)

I sat down on his bed and tried a myriad of questions to try to figure out if there was some reason for his not wanting to participate in the splashiness. I tried to reason with him, that even though he had on his swimsuit, he didn’t have to get wet – he could just go play in the sand, but he was having none of it. He was very defensive in his talking, so no reasons were forthcoming, and when I thought about it, I wondered, “Who are we to force him to participate in the splashing?” So after consulting with James, I told him it was fine, he could pick out some clothes to put on.

“But I’m going to put your swimsuit in your backpack in case you change your mind.”

He stopped dead in his tracks, stared me straight in the eye, and said, “I am never, never, never, never, never, NEVER going to change my mind.”

Well then.

The whole thing is a little worrying to me because if something happened to cause all this non-splash-day-excitement, I want to know about it.

* The other day Ethan was mid-getting dressed and was thus, naked, and he ran from our room to his room, and realized that his penis was bouncing to and fro. He stopped short, and alerted James, who had just come up the stairs, “My penis is RUNNING Daddy!” and then proceeded to run around some more to show him.

– amy drinks diet coke topped off with a wee bit of root bear.

HAMSTER DANCE!