Yesterday was one of those rare days when I got to have both my children hanging around the old homestead. Granted, I didn't get the pleasure of my son's company for very long but I console myself with the fact that a) he did remember it was Mother's Day and b) he actually purchased a card and took the time to fill out a funny, if not a bit insulting, book detailing what he loved about his mother. As I've said before, I'll take what I can get.
After sharing a pizza on the deck, (I sure wasn't cooking and it didn't look like anyone else was either), I watched as my kids picked up a long-forgotten frisbee and started throwing it around the yard. I didn't know whether to laugh or cry. I couldn't help remembering all the fun we've had in the park-like lawn behind our house. An endless parade of lawn darts, Slip and Slides and badminton nets have made their way through that space but it's been quiet for awhile. It was great to see them out there, laughing and trying to outdo each other. Unfortunately, my daughter has inherited her mother's inability to throw an object anywhere near the intended receiver so there was little chance of her ever being able to match her brother's effortless athletic prowess. Still, they were having fun; fun which only intensified when they coerced me into playing. After all, there's nothing that brings siblings together like shared ridicule of one of their parents. So what if I'm their favorite target? So what if I kept throwing that stupid thing into the deck railing (which was only ten feet away and a mere ninety degree angle from its target)? It was almost worth the humiliation to watch my son and daughter fall to the ground in fits of laughter.
I've decided I can handle a little bit of ridicule if it results in the four of us spending more time together. If that's all it takes, I'm happy to take the fall.
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