No big, we were horsing around, me swirling them around, racing them in the shallow water, tossing them and joking around.
It was lovely.
We had fun.
Sometime during that time, a woman came up to me, goggles on and breathless, and said: I love how you play with your kids. That made me happy.
And I thought - OK. Are we that special?
Well, maybe we are, and have been. Special, lucky, tactile, loving, it doesn't matter. What matters is that when my boys were beyond little children age, they played with me and I with them, as we had always done.
Maybe this is all hand's-on needs to be. Just playing around.
Take time to play with your kids. Treat them like you would want to be treated. Live with them, and their bodies and their spectacular brains, for as long as you can.
Because romps in the pool with your kids come with an expiration date.
And then? More fun, if you shift the rear-view mirror and adjust your shades.
3 comments:
love love love... and yes... that is far more special and rare than you see.
Then why is it when I play with young kids the police are always called in?
;P
Exactly. My daughter and I get the, "I thought y'all were sisters!" comment, because we still play We like as well as love one another.
Odd to think we are exceptions rather than rule.
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