I have a friend who often says of her boys and other boys, “What a stud!” She uses it when someone does a wheelie or makes a great basket or scores a 100% on a test. I’ve never heard her say it about a girl. I don’t think I’ve ever said it about a girl.
But my 8-year-old Sammy is a stud. S-t-u-d. Or whatever a female equivalent would be. [Pardon me while I troll around on the Internet for a bit.] As I don't mean "stud" in any icky way, I guess I'll go with Amazon. So my Sammy is an Amazon. And of course I'm using that term for her warrior, heroic feats, not her size.
Lukifer was living up to his moniker last week, throwing rocks in the pool. Yes, rocks in the pool. And it’s not like I wasn’t paying attention because I was. I would never leave him unattended by the pool. No, he was throwing rocks from many yards away, up a hill, on the deck off the living room. Like I said, living up to his moniker.
Yes, it’s been warm. Quite warm. Unseasonably warm. But not unheated outdoor pool warm, if you get my drift. (Perhaps you saw last week’s Wordless Wednesday post?) Too dang cold to go in and dig out 15 rocks. The pool sweeper won’t pick them up. He’s particular that way. (Joking, it’s a sweeper like this. Not a sweeper like this.) And you can’t scoop them up with the scooper net. What can you do?
You can call in Sammy, who will dive a dozen times into water that might now be all of 60 degrees. She will retrieve every last rock that her dough-head brother threw in.
Can you say “Amazon”?