Through my daughter's eyes

As I was tucking my daughter into bed tonight, I asked her what the best part of today was. She didn't hesitate. "Swimming at the pond and going across the water to the island!"

 

I admit to being more than a little surprised. Not because those things didn't sound absolutely lovely, but because they didn't happen. At least, I didn't think they did.

 

We did spend a beautiful day with friends at the seashore. We had a picnic and played at a wooded playground on a hill. There were many moments there that could have qualified as the best part of today. But they weren't the best part of her day. She is delighted by what we did next.

 

What did we do next?

 

We walked down to the marsh.  It smelled strongly of low tide, because it was low tide. As the water receded I watched children enter this wonderland of decay. They frolicked with abandon in silt and muck halfway up their shins. They stooped to dig in the mud for clams, and the sandals that had been sucked from their feet. They "washed" themselves in pools of water that sent phrases like "high bacterial count" and "internal parasites" singing through my brain. Through my eyes, this was the filthiest, most stomach turning part of the day.

 

Through my daughters eyes; wading becomes swimming, marsh becomes pond, and a mudflat becomes an island. It's a magical world, through my daughter's eyes.