In one of those amazing areas where a lake meets the ocean.
My oldest wanted to lay in the sand on a bustling beach, with music and noise and kids running around between towels on the ground.
my youngest and I plodded to the lake behind.
As a science experiment, with pieces of apple, that we had kindly, half chewed ourselves; we left a feast for this little lad.
Then we walked up the bank to do the same, with a group of ducks, who seemed happy to nibble our spat on bits.
A group of geese hovering around and then soaring over our heads. Noises of life filling a small marsh space on a beautiful lake.
When we ambled back, to check our results, not even a nibble of apple was gone.
Reminiscent of my 13 year old.
Constant total disappointment in his lot, with his mother.
And a “I didn’t ask for a fucking apple did I?” face.
Frogs. Don’t. Eat. Apples.
As it turns out.