Michael

We spent the weekend in the Keys celebrating my birthday. It was awesome. Jason has really figured out what it takes to make me happy. A lounge chair, a book and a drink. The family around me was nice, too. But mainly the chair-book-drink thing does the job.

While we were taking in the sunshine and loving life at Hawk’s Cay Resort, a little boy swam up to Annie Bea.

Boy: How old are you?
Annie Bea: 4.
Boy: I’m 5. Why aren’t you wearing floaties?
Annie Bea: Because I know how to swim.
Boy: I can swim, too, but I wear floaties.
Annie Bea: Yeah, but I’m a really good swimmer.

She dove down under water and swam two circles around him.

Boy: Wow. You are a good swimmer.

Bingo. He had her at WOW. Annie Bea ran to tell Jason about her new friend. One compliment and she was smitten.

Annie Bea: Dad! I made a new friend.
Jason: What’s her name?

Annie froze. She ran back to the pool.

Annie Bea: What’s your name?
Boy: Michael.

Annie screams, “HIS NAME IS MICHAEL! HE’S A BOY, DADDY! COME MEET MICHAEL! MY BOYFRIEND!”

What is it with dads? Jason’s face was genuinely concerned. Boyfriend – the word made his brow wrinkle and his lips purse. I mean, she’s only 4. Clearly, there’s nothing to worry about. But Jason put down his book and stared at Michael for the rest of the day.

To all the Michaels in Annie Bea’s future, I have some advice: Mind your floaties. Jack Byrnes is watching.

*This story reminds me of another funny story about me, my dad and a boy in Ireland. I’ll tell it tomorrow. It’s a good one.

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