“Swimming!” Lo, short for Lauren after her grandma, hollers, waving her chunky arms in the air. We rode on the boat all afternoon then stopped for lunch and a quick game of baseball. “Can we go swimming now?” he asks, no longer interested in our baseball game. “Good job, squirt,” I tell him and then ruffle his hair. Looks just like his grandpa Jerald James Hale who he’s named after. His dark hair is sweaty and slightly curly. When JJ stomps on home base, he runs over to me and throws his skinny arms around my waist. Hunter and Uncle Randy can’t play baseball for shit, but they’re still all smiles. His slightly older cousin, Hunter, finds the baseball and lobs it at Uncle Randy, who misses. Our son runs as fast as his little legs will take him around the makeshift bases. “Run, JJ, run!” Rylie hollers from the picnic table where she sits with Aunt Becky.
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