William Bubble Maker

My son is 32 months old and had, until today, been the chaser of bubbles blown by bigger boys.

On our way to the park and we stopped to get some new balls we could kick around. The selection at the store was not up to snuff so we settled on some bubbles. Then we made our way to the park.

It was a beautiful sunny, fall day: Leaves on the ground, crisp cool breeze and a playground.

There were a few other kids there for William to climb, swing and slide with but he was set on the bubbles from the start.

It is very difficult to get him to not try so hard sometimes. Once he applies himself he is single minded in his pursuit and nothing will dissuade him.

I have seen him drip with sweat while he tries to get the ball into the basket. He will run himself ragged, exhausted and stumbling until he can make that basket, kick the ball where he wants, get his bike going fast enough or positioned just right or hit that ball with his bat.

He had no problem opening the soap bubble bottle or working the wand around so it was good and soapy and then positioning it the correct distance and orientation from his lips. But when he blew it was too hard and the end result was soapy water running down his hand and a distinct lack of bubbles in the air.

"Not so hard, William. Easy, easy."

Blowing. Soapy hands and no bubbles.

"Easy...easy...eeee....zzzzz"

A bubble.

"Easy..."

More bubbles. Dip, dip blow. A stream of bubbles!

Dip, dip, blow. A plethora of bubbles big and small! Success! Triumph! Yet another piece of the universe brought under control.

More bubbles and smaller children chasing them. Big bubbles that would float up to the tress and smaller bubbles that would pop before they hit the ground.

No longer would William be the chaser of bubbles blown by bigger boys. Now he was William: Bubble Maker King!

Yesterday morning, in the park, all was right in the universe.