I sat for about a half hour yesterday in Corinne's room. I was "supposed" to be putting away laundry but got distracted by the shouting and laughing from the backyard, so I peeked through her window and was in awe of the sight below me.
5 kids, (2 neighbors) running, laughing, jumping, pretending. The girls were pouring and scooping sand, dirt and water to make "recipes" (gag!). They mixed grass, leaves and other miscellaneous bits (not sure I want to know what the "miscellaneous" bits were...) in dozens of cups that were stolen from the cabinet. The boys had a game of some sort where acid guns and hover-crafts were involved. I don't think I could truly comprehend the "rules" but they played this game for hours. HOURS.
Can you remember the days when a game of pretend was so engrossing that you devoted hours of your life to it?
I was in awe that I get to be a part of this messy, crazy life. The kids, the house, the hunky husband. It's mine. The yard that is covered in literally DOZENS of plastic toys? MINE. The carpet stained with juice, knocked over in an exuberant depiction of a Jedi defense move? Mine. The husband with the dreamer's heart that hasn't been squashed, despite my own dreary reality-based personality? Mine, mine, mine!
Behold the hunky husband's depiction of a dolphin trick.
The yard. This is actually on a "cleanish" day...
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