My guys look at me and smile. There is no place they'd rather be. But the sun and fun make way for hunger pangs that intrude on the day's activities, so it's time to move on.
We pack the boat and head to the public docks, leaving our island dreams behind.
Pizza, Ice Cream and...
I glide my boat up to the city docks stretching just beyond the downtown entertainment district. I thrust the boat power to the engine back and forth until she gently floats into a slip while the momentum brushes her up against the dock. I quickly grab the boat lines attached to the cleats of the fiberglass molding and moor her to the pier. It's not an easy feat when you are alone and, at the same time, keeping your 2 eager children at bay from jumping ashore.
We disembark from our pleasure cruise and go to the main street, where the pizza store and ice cream shop are.
Thankfully, it's just off the docks, so we don't have to venture off too far.
The building where the ice cream is housed isn't too hard to find. It's a hideous lime green and pink facade, yet it feels comforting no matter how ugly it appears. A welcoming sight for anyone on the hunt for cream and milk.
My boys eagerly entered the ice cream shop before the pizza restaurant was within reach.
Nico and Christopher intend to eat something other than ice cream first; their intentions lie in the miniature train encased in plexiglass mounted to the countertop. The train travels back and forth (North to south) with just a press of the button attached to the main wall.
[Push the button] The train moves forward.
The boys run to the other side to wait for the train's arrival. Their fast-moving bodies move other patrons out of the way.
"Choo choo!" they announce out loud.
"Sorry (sucking in my lips)," I say to the paying customers.
[Push the button] Trains move backward.
The boys move the patrons out of the way again and follow the train to the other end.
"[Haha] (I nervously laugh) OK, boys, say excuse me," I tell the boys as I look at the ice cream connoisseurs.
"Tell the train 'bye' and will be back."
"Goodbye, train," Nico says.
We walk over to the pizza restaurant adjacent to the ice cream shop. When we walked inside, I approached the counter and went to the friendly pizza maker to choose the pizza we wanted. However, the boys had other plans.
They decided to run around the tiny restaurants' seating area, choosing food they'd like to have from the restaurant that wasn't behind the safety of the workers but out front on display. They grabbed food without impunity.
"Umm, 2 cheese slices, please," I begin to say. "This bag of chips, that bag of chips. OK, this water. That Coke Zero.
...no, no lollipop's...
...no soda...
No beer...
Hey! Now, you guys are just grabbing anything! Put it all back!"
The boys gobble their slice of pizza. Evidently, they are vanquished after a long day of fun and the sun, but we are still going. We move over to the ice cream, which is much easier to choose.
"Chocolate chip cookie with cookie dough, please."
We take our ice cream and walk over to the water fountains at the end of the main street.
The piping for the individual fountains is recessed into the ground, where powerful jets of water shoot out of them, creating a small Bellagio Fountain.
This fountain is a playground for children to run and play in a concrete, watery paradise. In between the water spouts, remnants of water crash onto the decorative concrete below.
The giggles my children share with others are intoxicating. They run up to me and wrap their little pruned arms around me, soaking my clothes. I can only muster up the statement, "Dang, that's cold," and marvel at how oblivious they are to the chill penetrating my skin.
"OK," I announce to Nico, "where is Christopher (my three-year-old)? He was just here?"
"Christopher!"
I look up at the collection pool where the runoff water accumulates. There is water in a narrow passageway that lines the fountain's perimeter. My son Christopher is wading in the water like at home in the bathtub.
"Christopher, no swimming in there, no!"
Nico walks over to the pooling water with a skip to his step.
"Bay, bay," Nico announces as he gets closer.
"Good job, Nico, get him out of there."
Nico stands on the edge of the concrete barrier and looks at me with a mischievous grin.
"Nico, don't you do it? No!" already knowing what he's going to do.
[Splash]
"Ya did it."
The boys swim in the narrow waterway. The water holder is only as comprehensive as a small creek that runs through the backyards of a farmhouse somewhere in the mountains. I can only shake my head. I marvel at the fun a kid can have, even in the most inappropriate place.
But the way I saw it, if the city didn't want them to swim in these small pools, why would they place them so close to the "Bellagio Fountains" was beyond me.
They were swimming in the little concrete barriers like birds in a birdbath.
After nervously watching them splash in the water, I decided we had to go before the sun eclipsed our daylight and definitely before the arrival of security.
"Boys, let's go, please," I announce.
[Crickets]
"Boys, let's go; come on."
I walk down the stairs where the ponds are built into the sides of the steps. I rest my knees against the purposely constructed rough walls and reach over the sides, bending down to grab Christopher.
He flails like a fish out of water but is no match for my strength. We struggled for clothing domination, but after some quick thinking, I could slip his swimming shirt off and remove his bathing trunks, exposing his little swimmer's diaper. Still trying to gain the upper hand of parental control, I place my hand on his very water-filled diaper and push him into me.
[Boom]
The pressure of my hand against his bodily resistance crushed the diaper, causing it to explode into a mixture of brown stuff and soupy liquid. It washed over my shirt like a wave crashing on the island beach.
"Is this? Did you? [Sniff, sniff] Oh no. You did. And it is."
I can only bow my head and close my eyes.
It's OK, Chris, it's OK- I think to myself.
I open my eyes and peer at my son's knees. The same mess on my shirt is trickling down his legs from the water-logged diaper. Frantic to get him clean, I look around for people who may or may not have seen this tragedy. They didn't see me.
"OK, Christopher, not a problem. Not a problem."
I lift him up and dunk him into the fountain, washing him clean for now. I quickly grab a towel from the bag and dry him off. Without skipping a beat, I dress and rush to Nico to change him.
Holding hands, I walk them back to the docks and our waiting boat. The sea was calm. The city reflected off the dark water as the sun slowly disappeared, closing out another day.
The boat was good to us today. We had a lot of good laughs, fun times, and good food. I'll travel with this boat for a long time if it continues to build memories that will last a lifetime. I just hope some of these memories will wash out of my shirt.
1,284 words.
The Adventures of Captain Imperfecto © is also a Registered Copyright with the Office of the Registers, United States of America, TX 7-611-138
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