Catching Memories
An ear infection at the “worst time” reminds Dan of the rejuvenating power of a morning spent playing hooky.
“Oh yeah, that’s a good one, definitely infected,” the pediatrician said two seconds after she stuck an otoscope in Connor’s ear. I was relieved to have an answer for his fitful night’s sleep; Connor relished the attention.
We filled his prescription for amoxicillin–he loves his “pink medicine”–and I (tried to) drop him back off at daycare. I was traveling on assignment the last week and had a small mountain of emails waiting for me.
“Actually, he can’t come back until he’s on antibiotics for 24 hours,” his 14-year-old-looking teacher told me upon our return.
“But ear infections aren’t contagious, are they?” I asked surprised.
“No, but that’s the policy.” Arguing policy with Connor’s favorite teacher would be a lose-lose for everyone so I smiled and said, “OK then, see you tomorrow afternoon.”
This impromptu sick day would mean that the next morning, which I had reserved to finish writing an article for the magazine, would instead be filled with diaper changes, Mickey Mouse Clubhouse and snack breaks. Despite the distractions, I actually attempted to write while Connor drove his toy cars and trucks along the perimeter of my laptop. After a while of staring at the same sentence then up at Connor, I had one of those Cat’s in the Cradle, “you know we’ll have a good time then,” moments.
I surrendered and snapped the laptop shut. “OK, how about pancakes?”
The look on his face said, “Now we’re talking pops!”
We both demolished a large pancake at our favorite local spot in short order. I checked my phone; we had three long hours before his 24-hour quarantine was up. “Want to go to the boat?” I asked. He mounted no objection.
Arriving in Essex, I put his life jacket on, and we made our way down to the launch that would take us across to the marina. Holding my pointer finger in his little hand we strolled slowly along the docks and watched fish splashing on the river. “Woah!” I’d yell when one kicked at the surface. He loved that game and gleefully shrieked woah! with every splash he saw. He jumped for effect while telling the marina manager that he saw a biiiigggggg fish.
Chatting all the way while shuffling his feet, we finally got down to the boat. I tightened a line, checked the bilge and straightened up a bit. Want to try and catch one of those fish? Taking the “sick day” in stride, he happily agreed.
I had him sit on his butt while I casted then crouched next to him so we could reel in the line together. It was a short fishing session, maybe a dozen casts or so without a nibble, yet watching him happily reel, I realized this constituted our first official time fishing together.
After a little while I checked my phone. His 24-hour hiatus had ended 20 minutes ago. I got him back to daycare in time for him to rejoin his friends and enjoy nap time. Before letting go of his hand I said, “Bye buddy, I had fun fishing with you today, I love you.”
He replied, “love you too,” before running off to see his teacher and claim his cot. I returned home and instead of writing that article, I wrote this instead. In a couple days (or hours) I won’t remember those emails I answered but I’ll never forget our first-time playing hooky.
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Source: https://www.powerandmotoryacht.com/column/catching-memories
