Write about: trepidation.
We limited customers to one pint of raspberries each when our email went out this week in order to make sure everybody who wanted them could get at least one, since the berries are not doing very well in this recent heat. So of course of the nine people who ordered, seven said they'd take a second if there was one available.
We managed to get fourteen pints between last night and this morning, so only a couple customers had to settle for one. Better than we expected.
Miles fell asleep super early this evening, which was nice because it gave Kat and I some extra time for just the two of us.
It will be less nice when he wakes up super early tomorrow morning.
He approaches warily. We can see that he has been hurt before. Badly, perhaps. So we let him take his time, trying to appear as harmless and friendly as possible.
He's not buying it. I'm not sure I can blame him. We must look huge to him.
I offer him a treat and, to my great dismay, he becomes even more nervous. Has someone tried this trick before, but with less honorable intentions? Disgusting. Heartbreaking.
We retreat a ways, leaving the treat behind. He hesitates for a few moments, unsure of his next move. But I can see that he really wants that treat. It is difficult not to hold my breath. I can feel my sister beside me fighting that same battle.
Finally, with many a backward glance, he comes forward a few steps. We coo encouraging words. A few more steps. Big smiles, tiny welcoming waves. Here he comes. Almost there. Almost.
And at long last the pool boy takes the bait.
I mean treat.