Proper Pirates.

I've decided my pirates 

need pirate names.

They really do.  

On Saturday, whilst running past a bayou,

I realized that no self-respecting pirate,

would go by his or her proper given name. 

That would be ludicrous.

May I formally introduce to you:

My Pirates.

Robs & Plunders

Though she simply prefers Robs. 

Don't let her full name fool you- she's a dream.

She's also brave. 

This summer she took swim lessons, 

in a town we don't live in, 

with a group of kids she didn't know

and swam under the water without plugging her nose.

She's in kindergarten and loves Mondays.

Last night before bed she asked if she got to go to school this morning. 

After I said yes she came back with,

"Good.  I have not been to school since before I can remember!"

And then we have

Enrique.

Sometimes he's Enriqueface.

But mostly his name stands by itself. 

And so does he. 

Sometimes I offer to help him,

and he tells me, "No thank you, I can help myself."

He loves wheels of any kind.

Trucks. Cars. Bikes. Toys.

Left behind tires on the playground...

And he has no problem swinging in the pink swing 

left over from when Robs was an only pirate.

Sometimes I wonder if this will ever change, 

or if he'll always be this confident.

But you are who you are before you know who you are, 

so I'm hoping it will stay this way.

And finally?

Squísh.

She's completely delightful in every way possible. 

Which I didn't think was even feasible until last January, 

when she became my current squeeze.

Last Thursday I left her to play 

in her bedroom on the soft, soft rug while I 

made my bed across the hall.

She'd crawled into my room before I could fluff the final pillow.

Which makes her the fastest of the pirates yet.

(The other two waited until almost twelve months.)

She loves her fellow pirates more than just about anything.

She says dadada when she's happy 

and mamaa when she's sad.

Happy Monday.