On Tuesday our kids went to school. This is a big year for us because it is the first time all four kids are in school all day. So on the first morning after they had all been taken to school, Checkered and I were at a loss how to spend the long day. We could have cleaned the house or finished up the laundry or taken a walk, but it was 90 degrees and gloriously sunny.
So what we did was take our little, old boat out to the lake and cruised around. Without the kids in the boat, we hit a record breaking 23 miles per hour! For two hours we rode and rode and looked at shacks and mansions, and seaweed, and anything else we could see. I thought of 2.3 million things that I needed to say during the course of that ride, but there was one little problem.
In order for me to talk, Checkered had to stop the boat, put the engine in neutral and I had to yell. By the time we went through that a bit, what I had to say didn't seem so pressing or brilliant and I remained quiet.
And so you wonder what vital lesson I learned through that experience?
What I learned is that I despise having my talking curtailed.
Profound, ain't it?