Last night we went over to my father-in-law's to spend some time on the lake and have dinner.  On the way out there, we talked about how great it is to get out in the summertime.  How there's something about warm summer evenings that makes you want to hang out in the lake until it's almost dark, coming in to eat, and later sleeping hard.  With that in mind, Marty Sr. took Martin out on the lake, giving him a tour of the island and letting him drive.


Spending this time on the lake gave Marty an excuse to haul out the inflatable boat (which some might call a raft) that he bought last year.  According to the weight limit printed on the boat, it could hold me, Marty, the kids AND my father-in-law.  But, according to the size of the boat, it's really good for two shrimpy kids - or one shrimpy kid and a dad, as long as the ride doesn't last for more than a few moments.


While Marty and Sophie paddled around the dock, I made a lot of jokes about this being our life raft, and how Marty better stay where he can still touch because I didn't think it would save too many lives.  Because really, didn't the seas look ominous?