I could almost taste the salt wind...
...and I could faintly hear the the clanging of bells in the distance. The squawk of seagulls were real. (McDonald's is not a block away.) But, if I squinted my eyes just the right way, the back deck at my parents' house actually did resemble the rear of the Black Pearl.
Imagination is a powerful thing.
My girl and I have been playing Pirates every time we're at my parents' home, and at times, it just seems so real. She lets me be Captain, and it's more than evident that I delight in ordering her to swab the deck, to drop anchor, and to rig the sails. She's a snappy first mate, and is great at throwing ropes into the nearby tree (which is the main sail), or up on the patio lattice. We can play for hours, and its embarrassing to see my folks shake their heads at me. My protests of simply playing with my child are ignored.
We've been going for night rides too, and I illegally double her on the back of my Schwinn, taking the backroads downtown. We lock the bike up, and then walk up and down the quiet streets, looking in darkened store windows, staring at the manniquins posed for fun and exciting days, or flashy, exotic evenings out. We pick out shoes we'd wear, and laugh at dresses that don't make the cut.
I'm on nights again, and it's goodbye to evenings at home, impromptu art projects and potions in the bathroom. We're now looking forward to Saturday, and it can't come too quickly.