A little less conversation
It was a quick trip, down to Florida on Wednesday, back on Saturday. Greg had a conference and Sutton and I decided to tag along.
It was Sutton’s third trip to the beach, her first since she decided she’s a “big girl.” Not sure what exactly constitutes, a “big girl,” but in her mind, that’s what she is.
We made it down to the beach with few problems, checked into our room and proceeded to get ourselves settled. We then changed and made our way down to the beach.
That’s when we realized the “big girl” and her “big girl voice” could get us in trouble.
“Mom!,” Sutton said loudly. “That lady has a big tattoo on her back.”
I looked ahead and saw the lady with the giant eagle spanning her shoulders.
“Yes, she does,” I replied.
“Why?” Sutton asked.
That question was harder to answer.
“Well, some people like to have tattoos and some people don’t. Your dad and I don’t have a tattoo and we’d like it if you didn’t either.”
That seemed to satisfy her, at least for a while. However, for the remainder of the trip, she proceeded to point out every tattoo she saw and then tell us how she’d never get one of those. (For the record, you never realize how many people have tattoos until you have an almost-three year-old pointing them all out.)
The second thing Sutton quickly picked up on was the fact people wear bathing suits of different sizes and shapes.
“Mom,” Sutton said on the second day of our trip. “That lady has on her panties.”
I turned to see a lady standing on the shoreline. She was wearing a pink bikini. It was small and did resemble a pair of underpants Sutton would wear, missing only a Strawberry Shortcake drawing.
“That’s her bathing suit, Sutton,” I replied, taking her hand and encouraging her to walk a little faster, as the lady didn’t look like she found Sutton’s comments too funny. Good thing she didn’t hear her thoughts on the lady’s large elephant tattoo.
The weekend continued, with Sutton’s observations highlighting our trip. She took time to talk about the blue streak in the server’s hair, the nose ring of another server and the fact a man sitting in the table next to us was loud. For the record, she was right each time.
We were so proud when Sutton spoke her first words and we’re still proud. A few less words, however, might be nice.
