magical Monday

I've stumbled upon a theory, and correct me if I'm wrong:

People have kids to re-live their own childhoods.

Last night PK was fussy beyond belief, so Mike and I decided to take a stroll around the neighborhood to quiet him down. We took a different route than we normally do, and ended up at the elementary school (which is probably 20 feet from my house). Not realizing it was so close before, and never having taken any such shortcut, I was amazed to discover acres of playground, trees and freshly cut green grass! Of course I went nuts and ran over to the swing-set where I immediately began pumping my legs furiously to see just how high the swing could take me. Peter was mostly unimpressed, although we did put him on our laps and let him enjoy the free ride. He did however, like the big Cottonwood trees that make a lot of rustling when the wind moves through them. There was a family of owls, visibly nesting in the trees (which I always suspected due to the afternoon hooting I sometimes hear).

After testing the swings and the playground equipment (Oh! How I wish I had brought a camera as Peter went down the slide all by himself!), we made our way around the school. Faded hopscotch lines were drawn on the rough asphalt, as well as four-square stations and a giant map of the United States. Of course we immediately had to jump on all the multi-colored states and try to name them. (I am embarrassed to say that I got as far as the mid-west and had to get some help from Mike. I blame this fact on my lack of travel to the east coast).

I was just looking longingly at the basketball hoops and baseball diamond, and complaining to Mike that it had been some time since I had played, when we discovered a lone basketball lying abandoned in the grass. Mike zoomed the baby down the hill in the stroller towards the object of discovery and found that it wasn't flat, and in good condition. Peter was still more interested in the nearby trees, but after a time began to notice the ball as it bounced along the pavement and sometimes made it's way into the hoop. He liked the texture of the ball with it's soft orange goosebumps, and after some coaxing finally began taking interest as we played together.

However, the sun was sinking, the baby was again growing fussy and our magical evening alone at the playground was drawing to a close. We left the basketball lying in the grass where we had found it, so that the next set of children who happened along could enjoy a free game. We pushed the stroller back around the school, up the shady path and eventually back onto the road that leads to our home.