Read Part Two
Read Part Three
Read Part Four
Read Part Five
While Gumma and I unpack, Umpa and The Princess explore the cabin that shall serve as home base for the remainder of our trip. She grins and runs at top speed from one end to the other, giggling the whole way.
It’s about a hundred degrees outside, and by the time we’re done unpacking we can’t wait to get in the water. All four of us hop in the truck and head down the treacherous hill to the dock area, which is about 20 feet higher than normal. The regular parking lot is under water, and people are using the road as a boat launch rather than driving over to the marina two coves away.
Now, let me preface this next part by reiterating how much I love my Pop. He is far and away one of my very favorite people on this earth. But he’s got a bit of a temper. Sorry, Pop. Love ya, man, but you can’t deny it.
When we get down near the launch area, there is another vehicle ahead of us. This vehicle is, honestly, blocking the road unnecessarily. There are a few kayaks poking out of the bed of the truck, which could easily be walked down to the water from the parking area to our left. Granted, the folks in and around the truck seem to be taking their sweet time, but it isn’t nearly as catastrophic an event as Umpa would have you believe. To hear the cuss words streaming out of his mouth in increasing volume and see him pounding the steering wheel, you’d think someone had popped him one in the nose…or worse, insulted his granddaughter.
The atmosphere in the truck is quickly turning toxic, and it suddenly occurs to me that The Princess and I don’t need to deal with this. We’re not at the marina; we’re at our own dock, for crying out loud! I grab my little girl in one arm, her life jacket in the other, and march off toward the dock to get her properly outfitted.
Now that she’s secured in her life jacket, The Princess can safely walk out and explore the dock. The very moment she realizes she’s walking on a floating thing in the middle of the water, she loses all pretense of disinterest or composure. Her eyes get as big as saucers, and every part of her little body begins to quiver, she’s so excited.
I take her down to the swimming dock at the end and carefully lower her into the lake. She bobs there for a few seconds with a bewildered look on her sweet little face. Never in her life has this little one seen so much water. Finally, awe replaces the shock. She looks up at me on the dock and cackles.
I laugh and jump in.
Stay tuned for Part Seven.
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