While we were in Nags Head, I got the opportunity to catch up with an old friend and fellow WMT survivor, Kelly. She has a little girl, Emily, who is almost two-years-old, and we relished the opportunity to not only hang out, but get our kids together for a little co-play action (I don't believe in the world "Play Date". F* that. It makes childhood sounds so organized. Icky.).
The kids and adults hung out in Kelly's driveway around a water and toy-filled kiddie pool. Not five minutes after arriving, Alastair displayed his suaveness (Inherited from his parents, of course) around the opposite sex by attempting to climb on Emily's tricycle and subsequently face-planting into the concrete. Busted lip, scraped nose, and brief spate of howling. Emily looked mildly concerned.
After more injury-free playtime, which included a brilliant new idea in baby games: "Painting the Driveway", we got ready to go out for dinner. Because the kiddies had gotten themselves significant damp, they were both stripped naked for a change of clothes. Alastair stared over at Emily with a look that said, "Wait. You're missing something." He was also equally impressed with her singing hobby horse, so it looks like he's not a complete cad.
Dinner was total and utter chaos which reminded me of why I do not want a brood of children. Great fun all around, and mildly surreal to see my old drinkin' and smokin' buddy all domesticated.
Adrian and I have decided that Emily is Alastair's first summer fling. He does love the older women. But I am concerned she's a little aggressive.