Beach Badge

I am Daddy’s “person of gradually increasing size.” Even though I’m getting older and bigger, I’m still too young to need a beach badge, or so the blonde girl under the umbrella tells us. But soon I’ll be 12, and then the girl will collect seven more dollars from Daddy each time we pass onto the beach. I don’t like to be an expense. I’d stay eleven if I could. I worry Daddy won’t call me his “little person” anymore. With time, age 12 comes and passes. I get my beach badge. But I also get to keep my nicknames.