when we go flying

We went around the table for bests and worsts.  Between mashed potato bites, our highs and lows and even a few in-betweens showed up for dinner.  Kennedy’s babysitting charge cried when she left–her best for sure.  That there was no school.  No early waking.

The junior girls got together to make shirts for the spirit assembly.  Unanimously they decided red tees with white puff paint letters: Oh. My. God.  Seniors, look @ our butts! Only Torri’s shirt stood out among the rest.  The oh and the my were the same but then came gosh and I called it my best at dinner.  Because wow! to stand out–to stand up–at seventeen.  Heart flutters.

School holiday or not there was no rest for the weary.  Come late afternoon, out the window I see him jumping off the rocks, his blanket cape blowing behind.  And I drop what I’m doing because who can say whether this will be the last time he ties a sloppy knot and goes flying?

i griped the other day about the snippet of time I have to accomplish the day before it falls right through my fingers.  And Jeff slipped: it’ll be nice next year when Jayce is in school all day.  I could see how he might think so.  But only because he’s not here for reading chapter books in the cozy brown chair.  and the subsequent rocking.  the tickles and toy story yahtzee and mommy, will you make me some tea?

He doesn’t know.

oh but i do.  i do.

*this is me again, linking up with just write.