Stasia/strawberry shortcake, Amos

There are many hazards I know in advance that I'm going to have to navigate when I take my grandkids for a swim at Amos Lake. There's always sunburn, of course, and there are such potential nasties as stubbed toes, stepping on sandburs, being stung by Digger Wasps or Yellow Jackets, or being bitten by mosquitoes or Horse flies. I'm ruling out drowning or being struck by lightning, since, with everyone around us constantly scanning the water and the sky, such obvious bits of lakeside scariness are highly unlikely. But the biggest hazard—and the one that seems to be a risk of every excursion—is simply this: bankruptcy. When you have kids in tow, sooner or later, they're going to ask for ice cream. Invariably, I will protest and plead both poverty and the fact that it's too close to mealtime. Pleadings and protestations will have no impact whatsoever. The asking will persist. The askers will get the better of the Old Softie. Maybe I'll get a bite of Strawberry Shortcake. Maybe I should get my own.