There is a large water table at our local Science Center. That fact probably explains why there was a three year-old boy running around Kidspace with his shirt off. I'm sure as he pushed those plastic boats in the over-chlorinated water, his sleeves had settled and soaked until the moisture crept past his elbows and up toward his shoulders. His exasperated mother peeled off his top layer to allow more playtime.
My children did not play at the water table. We have drenched ourselves there before, and apparently, girls without shirts are not socially acceptable.
Instead, they built themselves an obstacle course with giant foam blocks, cylinders, stairs, and wedges. They must have appeared to be having great fun because they were joined by several other children, shirtless boy included.
Brad had been watching the action. I was away. Doing something that I don't remember. I returned, sat on a bench next to Brad, reviewed the well-planned project and asked in awe, "Grace and Claire, did you build this?"
Young shirtless had been racing to and fro on the course like a happy hamster. He had heard me. He stopped just in front of me, standing on a squishy ramp. He addressed me with pride, his shoulders thrown back.
"No, I built it. With my nipples." And like a great showman, gesticulated toward his superhuman specimens.
You should have seen the look of shock on Brad's face. We were crying before we could stop laughing.