The following is a rewritten version of a piece that originally appeared in Foundation Father, a wonderful publication about raising children and being a worthy husband. I hope you enjoy.
My son bellows defiance at the sea.
I watch green glass waters shatter atop him and melt into a rumbling foam carpet that pulls him along the smooth sand floor. He rolls like a rag doll for a distance, little limbs caught in the spin cycle of some great oceanic washing machine.
Then the waters retreat, and he’s back on his feet again, yelling louder than before at waves that hiss defeat. I’m unsure if he knows they’ve only gone for but a moment—sliding out just long enough to gather reinforcements and pummel the beach anew—and him along with it. I’m not sure he’d care if he were aware. This is the arrogance of young and wild men, and it is a thing of great beauty.
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