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Frisbee Boy

Get out of the way Balloon Boy, there's a new kid in town. Okay, so maybe Frisbee Boy doesn't zoom over the landscape-but neither did you. However, he does reinforce that creativity is alive and well in seven-year-olds in spite of video games, cell phones, and SOLs. Yep, Frisbee Boy has convinced me that our future is in good hands-even if they are saucer-shaped.

The adventures of Frisbee Boy started the week that the grandkids were here at the Knott House. Prior to the arrival of the grandsons, the granddaughters accompanied us to a picnic where they were on the receiving end of some free Frisbees. By mid-week, when all four grandkids were on deck, the Frisbees made it to the pool where they doubled as boats for toy creatures and suitable scoops for water battles.

While the other kids were pretending to be dolphins and snow leopards-don't ask me how snow leopards made it poolside but they became fast friends with the dolphins, the youngest grandson sat in the midst of the Frisbees. I am almost certain I could see the wheels turning through those beautiful little eyes. After all, he had recently witnessed his grandfather's ingenuity in coming-up with a makeshift slide for the pool, which gained immediate approval from our young guests.

Finally, the little guy looked up at me and challenged, “I bet I could walk on water with these Frisbees on my feet.”

Hearing that, I figured it was time for me to go inside and fix a plate-load of peanut butter sandwiches and chocolate milk shakes to help fuel the innovative spirit and feed the leopards and dolphins. Transferring the lifeguarding responsibilities to the hubby, I headed for the house.

After completing my task, I carried the tray of goodies back to the pool just in time to see the debut of Frisbee Boy. Yep, there he stood with that boyish grin growing from ear-to-ear and a sense of pride that seemed to make him glow. Don't think I've seen that man-of-mine so pleased with himself since he caused Squirrelzilla to go nuts by slipping a Slinky over the birdfeeder pole.

Oh, and the grandson, Frisbee Boy, was grinning, too. Make no doubt about it, he and his grandfather had definitely bonded dur-ing my short stay in the kitchen. The little guy's hands and feet were centered carefully in the Frisbees and anchored there with the help of shiny brown DUCT TAPE.

Looking kind of like a giant tree frog, Frisbee Boy clomped to the pool ladder and began his descent into the water while his brother and cousins cheered.

And the descent continued-until his natural buoyancy took over and he began a swirling motion with his Frisbee-cloaked hands and feet. He swam around the pool with an ease and gracefulness that almost simulated some sort of water ballet.

Okay, so he couldn't walk on water but that didn't deter his stick-to-itiveness to the task at hand-although the water was get-ting to the duct tape. Of course, knowing about the hubby's stash of duct tape, I figured he was bound to have some that would have been more water resistant. If he did, thank-goodness he had the common sense not to use it.

By the time Frisbee Boy made several laps around the pool and maneuvered down the makeshift slide to the absolute delight of his giggling audience, his saucer-shaped appendages had loosened their grip and one was heading for the pool's skimmer.

As he climbed out of the water, I could tell that the wheels were back in motion and we'd probably see many more adventures from Frisbee Boy. With a hint of disappointment but a glint of things to come, he looked at me and said, “Maybe I need bigger Frisbees.”

Reckon there's any chance I should hide the trashcan lids and my pizza pans? KNOTT MUCH.