On the Doorstep

I took the kids out for a walk after dinner last night to give their mother a little time to relax. It was a beautiful Spring evening, marred only by the fact that it's garbage day this morning, and a lot of garbage was blocking the sidewalk. My daughter is barely learning to ride her bike--with training wheels. Lots of garbage means lots of detours.

But in spite of all that we still didn't take as long as I'd hoped, so when we got home we sat out on the doorstep for awhile. Walter was glad to be outside, and like a young colt, bolted up and down the stairs and all around the yard at breakneck speed. Emma sat next to me for awhile, then went inside to get her magnetic doodle board. Before I knew it we were taking turns sketching items we could see and giving it to the other to guess. Sort of a game of "I Spy" without the verbal components. MagnaDoodles (TM) are not the most accurate media.

Every so often Walter would return, wrap his arms around my neck from behind, and lay across my back. I'd grab his arms, rock forward, and suspend him there for a moment or two. Then I'd let him back down and off he'd go.

The neighbors across the street were having a party, and at the moment they were listening to some country music (It later devolved to heavy-bassed rap that vibrated our house, but for the moment it was enjoyable). The yard was full of flowers, but the stinky mock-pear had lost its blooms, and the air smelled alternately of tulips and barbecue--either way, not a bad smell by any means.

Eventually it was time to go in, and after a few more hours I was about ready to give the neighbors a piece of my mind, but for a few moments, life was perfect.