Hung a swing today

We have three wonderful trees in or backyard. One is an ash and the other two are maples. The maples are wonderful, tall, wide, and full of scenic wonder. They also provide plenty of leaves and helicopters...

I decided to take advantage of a particular limb and hand a swing. So, off we went to the hardware store for the needed particulars. I stuffed the kids into the cart and perused the isles. Now, the swing I decided to hang was a simple wooden saucer. Well, wood needs paint and Galen got to choose it, a light sky-blue.

We got home and the construction began. That's when I rediscovered that my jigsaw blades were dull. They'd be OK for balsa, a soft pine, or maybe even poplar. But I had oak scraps. No cut'n there. Thank goodness for the saws-all.

Galen helped with the sanding - sorta. He also painted - sorta. But he was help'n and that's what mattered.

While the paint was drying we hung the rope. He had fun with that rope, he swung from the end trying to be monkey man. We tied a knot around a stick and used that to sit-n-swing through the air. All fun, memorable, stuff. Then it was naptime.

I took advantage of naptime to complete the painting and attach the saucer to the rope. After his nap and snack it was time to discover a brand new swing.

What agony. What seering pain. What drama. The swing was too low, he wanted it about chest-high. My chest high. Fine for the park swings, neighbor swings, zoo swings. But not a swing in my backyard. I wanted a swing that he could mount and fly with without me having to raise a finger. This was a debate I had to win.

So, it's now 9 PM and everyone's asleep. I sit here, sipping my fine Irish whiskey, firm in the knowledge that my son does indeed like his swing. It took awhile, it took some thick skin, it took some persuasion & distraction. But in the end I saw a young man scoot back, lift his toes, and giggle with delight while flying through the air.

Life is good. Fatherhood is grand. And my, my, my, how the whiskey is exquisite.