As I mentioned in an earlier post we’re on the Outer Banks for a family vacation.  We’re here with three other families so we have seven adults and ten kids in the house, which means there isn’t a lot of time without tremendous amounts of noise and activity.  Not that it’s bad, it just is.

So today brought a pleasant surprise when I found myself in the surf (big surf for NC with waves at 6 or 7 feet sometimes) with my oldest son, Michael.  For some of the afternoon he and I had company out there, but for a while it was just the two of us.

Before our trip to the beach this week I’d only seen Michael for about a day over the last month due to my trips and his trips combined, and to say I missed him would be an understatement.  Today we were able to dodge waves, do a little body surfing and just talk.  Michael has a lot to say, just like his dad, and today it was great to be able to listen without any distractions.

I have a feeling that such opportunities might be numbered in the near future (he turns 13 next month), but I’ll take ’em while I can get ’em.

We’re on the outer banks (Corolla, NC) for a little R&R and something strange happened: I asked my wife to dance last night, not the other way around.

Must be the combination of ocean air, enough beers that I lost count, Celeste’s very fetching outfit and a good 80’s band from Greensboro, NC.  Anyway I’m sure Celeste wishes she had it on video so everyone who knows us would believe it.

My wife, Celeste, went to Georgia last week to stay with her aunt and visit her grandmother, who is living in a nursing home down the road from her aunt’s house.  Celeste’s mother and sister Ashley went as well.  Ashley also had her little ones, who are two and a little under a year (I’m a guy, I can’t do the "however many months old" thing), with her.

Celeste called home each night and would fill me in on how their day at the nursing home went.  In general Celeste found it depressing, which I can understand.  Beyond the fact that her grandmother is not very well, almost all of the residents are in the midst of dementia, have a hard time feeding themselves, wear diapers, etc.

On the other hand, she said that when Ashley’s little ones were anywhere near one of the residents that person would instantly perk up.  Their eyes would light up, they would say something like "Baby!" and just come to life in general.  Celeste said it was a wonder to see, and she also said that it made for some fun moments, especially with the two year old, Jason.  For example:

• When one woman held out her hand to Jason he thought she was asking for a high-five and proceeded to slap her hand, which caused the poor woman to pull her hand away as if she’d just touched a hot stove.
• Jason considered these folks potential new playmates.  Unfortunately their wiring just wasn’t fast enough for him, so when he asked "Do you like my truck?" and didn’t get a quick enough response he followed up with a staccato "Huh, huh, huh?"  Each "huh" would provoke a spasm from the residents which I’m sure made the room look like it was full of human popcorn.
• Finally, upon first seeing a resident in a wheelchair Jason commented, "That sure is one big stroller."

Based on these conversations with Celeste I’ve decided that if I ever need to be in a home I want it to be one that is regularly visited by toddlers.  I say toddlers because in a few years Jason’s perspective will have changed and he’ll see the nursing home as we see it, and not as a big house full of potential playmates. 

I also hope that if I’m ever the one sitting in the wheelchair I can see it as a stroller and not a prison, and that I can adopt that perspective from this point on in my life.  That’s one glass that is seriously half-full.