Park, Park, Park

Charlie's throwing stance is getting better all of the time.

His little brother is learning how to throw balls from him.

The throwing lessons did get put on hold so Charlie could chase a bunny under the tree.  He didn't catch the bunny which tells me, his father, that running lessons are next.  He's no Usain Bolt...yet.

Henry gets a free pass from lessons until he can walk.  I will give him another couple of weeks.

This is Henry conversing with angels...like Annette.

Yum.

I think Charlie doesn't understand the optical illusion that things that are far away are not really smaller.  He kept running back and forth between the two hoops thinking that, for sure, the farther one will be easier to throw the ball into.  Then he gets to the hoop and wonders how the devil it just got so big when it was just so small a second ago.

Everything grows plants here.  If you sit down on the ground for too long, a plant may spring up out of the ground and wrap its vines around you and won't get away.

These next two pictures are Annette's positive proof that moss does NOT grow on the north side of trees here.  It envelops the tree.

Big people don't do slides as well as little people.  We have too much surface area (a fat joke perhaps) and the coefficient of friction is much higher on my jeans than it is on his athletic shorts.

This is my beautiful wife making sure our child doesn't end up in surgery again.

This is them returning from a jaunt through the jungle.

These are the killer vines I was describing. 

This is Annette's creativity coming through.

In PA (we're cool enough now we can use the local vernacular to shorten Pennsylvania), you don't have to exercise to sweat.  If you have a pulse, chances are good you're sweating. 

The Hilton provides private swimming pools in each suite.  They're a little too shallow to dive into, but they sure bring smiles to the faces of little kiddies.