Maine is very big. If I hadn't learned that lesson on my four hour ride up here from Boston(!), I learned it today on our 2 and a half hour odyssey to Bar Harbor, which turned a "let's take a quick drive up the coast" plan into an all day adventure.
The nephew, wisely, slept most of the way up, but woke up for lunch, and was incredibly patient and well behaved, all things considered. In Bar Harbor, we explored the park by the harbor, through stones in the ocean, and walked around a little... before the rains came.
Then we went and played miniature golf, which, I learned, is the perfect size for a five year old, even though the Most Adorable Nephew in the Universe will not be the next Tiger Woods. He found golf "boring" after 11 holes, and it took much energy to get him to finish the course. And that's before we discuss how th whole concept of holding the putter eluded him. But he did get a hole-in-one on 17, which was more than I did.
After ice cream on the way home (i am, after all, the coolest uncle), we stopped for groceries and there was nearly a scene when we discovered the local Shaw's did not have goat's milk. But when we got back outside, there it was: a rainbow; a big beautiful one that just hung in midair in the sunset light. And it was magic. They may not have goat's milk in Maine, but they do have rainbows.
So after he said the sabbath prayer over the Challa, we put him to bed, and instead of me telling him a story (last night: The Boston Tea Party), he told one instead. It was a magical tale, about two warring factions and a secret device that turned into the tall buildings in New York. And yes, I think I found the Rainbow Connection. The lovers, the dreamer, and me.
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