The Hammock: Smart Husband, Stupid Wife

My husband is a fan of the hammock. He will sneak off and climb in and disappear from the regular world. When he disappears, we disappear from his world, too. I spend a lot of my life ordering him OUT of the hammock.

In my aforementioned diatribe about the moldy swimsuits, towels, sheets, comforters, blankets and mattress, I mentioned that my husband believes I only work hard because I haven't trained my kids well-enough.

When I was re-reading my journal about our summer on the lake, I realized who exactly he had trained--and I didn't like the discovery.

The Tree Swing

A couple of years ago, the girls were outside with some old rope making a swing on the tree in front of our house. Making a swing that looks like a noose will alarm any mother, so I bought a cute little wooden swing.

That cute, little swing lasted about thirty seconds. Sometimes, you have to choose form for function--the next stop: plastic.

I was sure that our plastic days were over. I felt even more foolish spending money on a purchase that was bound to be obsolete as soon as I hung it.

I have to tell you... that swing sees constant action. Kids of all ages can't resist that thing. Teenagers to toddlers, it is always occupied.

I guess we all have the need to swing.