Little One #1 strapped on his life preserver, put on his ‘Rock Hero’ hat and proclaimed himself ready to go.Save for one detail — the life preserver was not strapped on as advertised — he indeed looked ready.
Daytime Dad fixed the life preserver then showered Little One #1 with enough sun screen spray that would protect his skin for weeks in a sun-splashed desert, let alone an hour in a lobster boat.
And with that, Little One #1 ventured down the steps to the boat, where his grandfather, among others, awaited.
The waves off the Marblehead, Mass., coast were rolling and the boat was rocking.
Still, Little One #1 seemed unfazed. He scurried along the dock and started to climb into the boat.
Daytime Dad shuffled for his camera, eager to capture the moment.
The scene conjured images of yesteryear, when Daytime Dad went lobstering with his father.
The moment was equally special for grandfather, who took Little One #1 into the boat and held him in his lap.
As the boat pulled away from the dock, Little One #1 waved.
Daytime Dad smiled.
Every so often a precious moment presents itself, whether it be obvious or subtle. This was somewhere in between. It was a moment Daytime Dad wished he could stuff in his pocket and pull out later, or cram into a freezer for later use.
The boat pulled away from shore, rocked up and down, then faded from view.
Daytime Dad, long after the boat pulled away, stood for what seemed like an hour, but was likely closer to 10 minutes, and surveyed the surf.
He wondered how Little One #1 would do out there.
Would he pull up any traps? (No, it would be learned later).
Would he push any back into the water? (Oh, yes).
Would they get any lobsters? (Two!).
Would he experience the same excitement as Daytime Dad once did on the open sea? (Yes. Well, maybe).
Daytime Dad also couldn’t help wonder — especially while watching Little One #1 truck down the dock with an air of confidence — just where, exactly, did the last three years go?