Thursday Morning Wood

Juniper's inflatable pool was in the backyard, a lukewarm stew of twigs, bugs and grass, and she was walking around the backyard in her underwear searching for more stuff to throw in it. Dutch was out there reading; I wanted her to come inside for dinner. She didn't want to. After fifteen minutes or so, when the air started to get cooler and more and more of our neighbors had arrived home from work, I tried to coax her in again. She completely ignored me.

Dutch responded: "Oh, I can get her to go in."

Huh, I thought. Now that he's a stay-at-home dad he really likes to show me up. He walked inside and headed to the fridge and pulled out a can of whip cream. He held it up in the back door, tapping its side on the glass.

"Juney!" he cried. "Come in!" At first she didn't look at him. "NO!" she screamed and continued to run around, shirtless, filthy, and now clutching an inflatable pink flamingo, grubby proof that we are the trashiest people on the block. Then she looked at him, and her eyes widened.

"Okay, Dada!" she shouted, and ran to the door. He deftly swung the door shut behind her, giving me a self-satisfied 'I told you so' look as he held the can up to her open mouth, squirting a dime-sized dollop of cream directly on her tongue. She laughed hysterically. "It kissed me!" she said, licking her lips. "More?"

Dutch gave her one more squirt while I stood aside, mortified and fascinated at the same time. "I thought you cared about her heart," I said.

"It's just a little whipped cream," he said. "It's not like it's Easy Cheese!" But my mind was whirling with possibilities. Imagine what you could get her to do with a can of aerosol cheese.