I am a fourth grader, carrying a backpack and lunch box, a violin and some Cub Scout paperwork. My backpack is full of books and homework, pencils with broken tips, a sweatshirt that I wore to school this morning.
I am a first grader, carrying a backpack and lunch box, drawings and pencils and crayons. I have a permission slip for our next field trip, a teacher's weekly newsletter and packet of homework due next week. I'm wearing my sweatshirt around my waist, its too hot to put it on now.
I am a two year old, riding my bike, stopping frequently to point out the squirrels, birds, dogs along the way. I can't keep up with Mom but she stops and I sail past her on my bike, only to stop again and admire some other thing along the road. I get tired of riding and decide to walk instead.
I am the mom. I carry the bike, the sweatshirts, the backpacks and lunchboxes, the violin. We walk home from school together, the four of us, I carry their things, their discarded burdens, they're weighed down by all of it but I gladly pick it up. They race on ahead, eager for play time, free time, freedom.
This is a snapshot in our day, a fifteen minute look at a tiny little piece of our lives. Happy to see each other, too busy looking for the next thing to slow down and talk to each other. They race off, I follow up, the last in line, encouraging the stragglers to keep going until we reach home.
1 comment:
I am the bampa. I read the blog about my daughter and her family. I tell grandma about the blog so she can read it too. We are glad we don't have to carry the backpacks, violin, bikes, and other stuff. We like reading the blog.
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