Recently I realized just how much we assume and have as inherited information as adults.  An interaction I had with Isaac recently proves this to me.

Isaac and Ethan's bath process started getting long, like two hours long.  There was, of course, lots of running around crazy and plenty of nakedness.  But we have decided to split them up and Isaac now takes a shower.  As I am in the bathroom one night, assuring that he doesn't fart around for 40 minutes, we had this conversation:

Isaac: Dad, where is the soap you use?

ME: Just use the tear free soap.

Isaac: No, I don't use that soap anymore.  Its kid soap.

ME: It is fine, just use it.

Isaac: Listen, I just want the Dove soap.

Here, let me insert a pronunciation guide: Isaac calls the soap Dove, as in "He dove off a cliff..."

ME: Isaac I think it is pronounced "DUV" not "Dove"

Isaac:  Dad, that makes no sense.  Why would they name a soap after a stinky bird.

ME:  It is supposed to be calming...

Isaac: I don't get it.  Pass me the Dove.

ME: Do you even know which one is the Dove? 

Isaac: Yeah, it is the one with the bird on it.

Ugh.  I am so dumb.  There is so much in this conversation that is really just a clash between inherited knowledge and earned knowledge.

And yes, we now call it Dove as in dove off a clip.

This summer has been a whirlwind for Isaac (and his family).  After a great birthday at Great Wolf Lodge, with his grandparents in tow, Isaac parted from the humid hills of my home state Ohio.  You read that right—“Isaac.”  Not “us” or “Isaac and Dad.”  Just “Isaac.”  It was a tough two weeks for the rest of us, though Bianca and I had a great time giving the Beeth a bit of extra attention.

Isaac of course had a great time with Nanna and P-Pa.  He was taken to all of their favorite spots, introduced to tons of people, took in an Air Show with P-Pa (which is like taking in a World Series game with Hank Aaron),  made Buckeyes with Nanna and GG, and raced through the backcountry roads as copilot in the Corvette.  The night time rountine was a bit different (ending close to ten...P-Pa...) and he and his grandfather watched almost three full seasons of Alf (yes, Alf).  In all, he had a magical time in Ohio.

When I went to get him he was very happy to see me, but probably only about 10% as happy as I was to see him.  Since coming home he has been more tender with is brother, both of whom contend that they missed each other more than their parents.  But last night as we were getting ready for bath, Ethan was getting a bit of attention.  He had been a little booger, but caught himself and was making amends.  In Isaac’s eyes, he was getting rewarded for being bad.  In a bit of a huff, Isaac turned to me and said: “I want to go back to Ohio.”

So grandparents, Mission: Accomplished.  Also, are you ready for Camp Sculimbrene in two or three years when all three grandbabies are there?

For about a month the three of us have been working on the above lean to.  It is a slow project, mainly because I am the only one that can cut stuff, haul stuff, or dig fast enough to get something done, but I am fairly certain that's not the point. 

Tonight, after a great dinner and a fabulous spring weekend, Ethan, Isaac, and I went back to work on the lean to.  It was the first really warm evening and after some chopping and carrying, Isaac got a bit hot.  So he ripped his shirt off and kept going.  Ethan, not one to ignore his older brother, did the exact same thing about ten seconds later.  I, being more modest and less shapely, decided to keep my shirt on.

Still we worked quite well.  The basic structure is up and the fire pit is ready.  The boys can be seen here, combing the resting area for large rocks.  Isaac used a branch as a screed board and Ethan "chucked the big ones" into the pit.  All in all, I can't imagine having more fun in an abandoned lot.  I also cannot imagine two little boys more filthy.  By the time we came inside, they looked like 19th century kids straight out of a coal mine.