Ken and I left the ladies at home this evening and rode down to the apparently nameless point of land in Ashbridge's Bay Park. Where we poked around in the rocks and trails, and ran around on some grass and watched the boats go by. Ken has an unerring sense of wonder about things he shouldn't touch, and tonight found a used condom. It was in a very strange place, in the center of a ring of bicycle trails. The wrapper was still sitting atop the grass; it looked as if the condom had very recently been used. I guess they got lucky, then we got lucky for showing up while it was over.
"Don't touch that! In fact, never touch one of those things you find, and don't ever let any old kids goad you into touching one."
"It was on someone's
"Penises smell bad."
"Fine. Just don't touch."
It was an otherwise superb evening. The weather was just perfect, and Ken was excited to be out on his new bike.