Saturday

Camron doesn't understand "just a minute". As in "just a minute, I'm carrying this heavy sheet of plywood across the yard and can't look at anything right now (without falling down)". He just keeps talking and handing things to me. Right now he is sitting in front of the waterfall with a whole stack of plans for today. Okay, but first we mow and trim. It can all still be fun if we are willing to risk more variety and greater range. In a few years when his teacher asks "What did you do over the summer?" he will either say "They made me mow the pond berm", or maybe, if properly introduced to the subject, "They let me help with maintaining the pond area". I'm trying it because anything (even paying attention to him when I would rather do my own projects) is worth avoiding another surly adolescent in the neighborhood.