We are locked out of my aunt’s house. She and my spouse left about an hour ago to go see my nephew (really my cousin’s son, but big families get confusing) in a swim meet. My boys and I stayed behind, too happy in the ocean to go with them. Eventually, I traded the Caribbean for the heated pool, and soon my kids followed.

While they roughhoused in the pool, I made my way back to my aunt’s place to write today’s post – only to discover that the key she left behind didn’t turn in the lock. So here I sit, poolside, writing on my phone and watching my teens. They’ve had me film them in slo-mo as they do various wild tricks; now they’re playing something akin to baseball with a pool noodle and a beach ball. My writing keeps getting interrupted by gales of laughter and giggles.

The sun is starting to set, so I have finally texted to admit that we can’t get in – but we’re in no rush. When we left this morning it was snowing and gray; we can stay here, locked out together, and be happy for a long time.