At the close of this day we have the bright idea of taking him in the rowboat out on the lake to view the moon rising, but a few strokes from the dock he fights his way out of his life jacket for all his mother, frenzied in the stern, can do, and lunges for the oars — not one big oar with two little hands, but both, the way Daddy does, and there we are, splashing up a storm as the moon glides up to look: little boy alive in the big world.