Today is the first day that I have felt summer in my home. I'm not talking about heat, the application of sunscreen or the joy of sleeping until someone wakes me up.
I am talking: imaginative play. That's right, folks. My kids have not asked to watch TV all day. They have only bickered half-heartedly in between long bouts of puzzle-doing, dot-to-dots, dollhouse arranging, drawing, stuffed-animal-cardboard-box-train making, bubble blowing, HO scale train community building, sitting down for lunch together, asking me to play with them, dancing and playing with the dog.
Holy cow.
I was beginning to believe that days like this might not really exist, that I had somehow invented these days in nostalgic delusion that folks my age are almost old enough to indulge in. (Well, almost old enough. I'll feel more entitled to it when I feel old enough to stop covering up the gray.)
I'd better get out of virtual reality and into real reality myself before the spell breaks. Happy summer!
Holy cow.
I was beginning to believe that days like this might not really exist, that I had somehow invented these days in nostalgic delusion that folks my age are almost old enough to indulge in. (Well, almost old enough. I'll feel more entitled to it when I feel old enough to stop covering up the gray.)
I'd better get out of virtual reality and into real reality myself before the spell breaks. Happy summer!
