At dinner on a deck in Bar Harbor, The Boss walked up to a girl who appeared to be right around her age.
"What's your name?" The Boss inquired.
"Hannah," the girl replied.
"Hi, Hannah," said The Boss. Then she went on to engage Hannah in a conversation about several of the most recent things to catch her fancy, including the life sized whale perched behind the restaurant at which we were eating. "Did you see that fank whale back there? Mom and dad said I can go touch it after we eat." Fank, in case you were wondering, is three-year-old-speak for fake.
"That's not a fank whale," said three-and-a-half-year-old Hannah, calling upon the six months of experience she had on The Boss. "It's a sculpture."
The Boss was all agreement. "Yes, yes. A sculpture." They went on like that for more than ten minutes as The Partner and I watched, transfixed. At that moment in time, on a warm deck in Maine while the sun shone on a high tide, I was sure I had never been better entertained in any of my thirty years. The best things in life are ones first experienced, and everything about the scene was new. From what The Boss saw and discussed with Hannah to the way we hung on their every word, there was no room for the jaded.
Later, atop Cadillac Mountain, The Boss held onto her father's hand as the two of them tromped over flat rocks toward the ocean view. She was prepared for what we had promised her would be an amazing sight. Squeezing his knuckles with baby-soft reassurance, The Boss looked up at The Partner.
"I'll keep my blue eyes open so I don't miss the scenery," she said.