time together
Last weekend I went out to the middle of nowhere to cover a story about a church sponsored dirt bike ride called Desert Storm. As the event got closer I began trying to think of reasons, besides not liking dirt and motorcycles, why I should stay home. Then a pleasant surprise happened. Our nine year old, Jack, said he would go with me. With six kids ranging in ages from 23 to 9 , one-on-one time is a rare occurance.
“Go ahead,” I told Jack when we stopped for dinner. “Order anything off the menu!”
The girl behind the counter smiled at his happy little face and said, “Welcome to Wendy’s. May I take your order?”
He was livin the dream.
We pulled up to where our friends said they would be and set up our pup tent under the fading light of the dusky sky.
After enjoying the concert by Australian singer/songwriter, Steve Grace, we made our way back to our “camp” and visited with Dean and Shelby before calling it a night. We played a hand of crazy eights then turned off the flashlight. Jack forgot to bring his pillow so we shared mine as we looked at the stars through the tent screen.
“Tell me a story,” he said.
“O.K. There once was a family of three bears…”
“No! A real story about you. When you were my age.”
“Well,” I began. “When I was your age I had my tonsils taken out….”
This led to a whole series of stories about being lost in the woods, pet lizards and the time I got in big trouble for dropping a rock on my sisters foot and jumping on the bed.
The girl behind the counter smiled at his happy little face and said, “Welcome to Wendy’s. May I take your order?”
He was livin the dream.
We pulled up to where our friends said they would be and set up our pup tent under the fading light of the dusky sky.
After enjoying the concert by Australian singer/songwriter, Steve Grace, we made our way back to our “camp” and visited with Dean and Shelby before calling it a night. We played a hand of crazy eights then turned off the flashlight. Jack forgot to bring his pillow so we shared mine as we looked at the stars through the tent screen.
“Tell me a story,” he said.
“O.K. There once was a family of three bears…”
“No! A real story about you. When you were my age.”
“Well,” I began. “When I was your age I had my tonsils taken out….”
This led to a whole series of stories about being lost in the woods, pet lizards and the time I got in big trouble for dropping a rock on my sisters foot and jumping on the bed.
He kissed my cheek and said he hoped to ride a dirt bike in the morning. Then cuddled close. Now we were both livin the dream.
Sometimes life’s sweetest moments are in unexpected places.
So sweet, mom. Wasn't it worth the dirt and motorcycles?