Funny kids

Phoebe is always so happy when Daddy finishes his meetings (teaching classes is what he's mainly doing) and joins us at the beach. Look at her grin when she gets in his arms!

This morning before Daddy came out, Rachel and I were out jumping waves with Phoebe. I was trying to get "swell foop" to catch on (because we've been playing "Hand and Foot" and when someone can put their entire hand down and moves on to their foot in one move we call it a "fell swoop" but, as it turns out, that's incredibly difficult to say consistently and people inevitably begin saying "swell foop"). So I was helping her ride the swell of the waves and then "foop" we'd drop down after the wave crested. 

It didn't catch on though. She wanted to say "swell thud" because foop isn't a word. 

How she can declare that so confidently at three years old, I don't know. 

There are all kinds of words in this world!

Andrew used the word "reconnoiter" on Sunday, which is perhaps the most ridiculous sounding word I've ever heard. Granted, I knew exactly what it meant given its obvious roots...but it just sounded ridiculous to my ear. 

Foop could be a legitimate onomatopoeia for suddenly falling in a wave's trough. She's three. She wouldn't know...except that she apparently does know. 

Anyway, Rachel and I were playing "swell thump" in the waves with Phoebe when Phoebe suddenly instructed us to "Make a fist! Now punch the waves! Punch! Punch! Punch!"

So—obedient caregivers/companions that we are—we balled up our hands into fists and began punching the waves with Phoebe. Well, Rachel balled up her hands plural, I only balled up hand singular because my other arm was busy holding Phoebe onto my hip. 

There we were, punching and punching and punching. Every time a wave came by: "Punch!"

Here's another: "Punch!"

And another: "Punch!"

Suddenly...

"Hey!" Phoebe said in a very emotional voice, "That one was just a baby!"

She was unironically upset with me for having punched a baby wave. 

How could I? Just plain rudeness. Uncaring. Cruel. Black-hearted behaviour. 

Sometimes I don't know what to do with this kid.

So I took her to the pool to let her paddle around. She's actually more timid at the beach than she was the first couple of days we were here—because she's learned the power of the sea, I think, and respects it a bit more. She likes to take breaks at the pool where she feels more confident to swim around. 

And here's Alexander, who was digging a big hole this morning when he stopped digging, looked up at me, and said, "You know, I think we're at sea level."

Really, buddy—what gave that away?

Here's Phoebe sitting in the hole: