Summer

He smells like sunscreen and salty water. His skin is golden except in the creases around his wrists and elbows where it's white. His lashes are dark and spikey from the water and his eyes are a bit pink from all of the salt.

He loves to splash and play, he doesn't particularly care if he falls face first into the water, he purposefully places his chubby little hand over the fountain so that he's sprayed with the water. He'll kick his legs in the water while you tow him around the pool.

We come home. He's stripped out of swim trunks and swim diaper and dressed again. We eat lunch--he likes to show me his food before he crams it in his mouth. We snooze under fans, and we wake up groggy.

Inevitably, this is what summer time does to our hair.