Hop-Too; Life Is Good

We were having a splendid afternoon in the back yard. Lauren was climbing the ladder. I was peeing my pants when I realized how high she'd gotten without supervision. Life was good.

Her joy in the ladder/slide combo was usurped by only one thing.

Acorns.

Our yard is being taken over by fallen acorns, and my girls collect them like treasure. They fill cups with them, pile them on stones, dump loads of them beneath the slide. They sort them by value: unripened greens and pinks are worth more than the glossy browns. Jumbo sized acorns from our neighbor's tree are more precious than minis from our own. And acorns with 'hats' are by far the most desirable, no matter the size, color, or shape.

They pour cupfulls down the slide to hear the clatter and watch the race as the acorns fly off the edge into the yard.

Every time we go outside now, acorns in cups are our first goal. All else is happenstance.

But on this day, something else stole Lauren's attention. At first she was interested.

Then she was worried. She tried to control her feelings, but this attention-grabbing thing wouldn't give her a moment's respite.

It was loud. It was insistent. It was coming closer all the time, until finally - it showed itself.

A helicopter. (Mama, hold! UP! A-Hop-Too! Mama, hooooold! A-Hop-TOOOO!)

She needed strong arms to protect her from this new and noisy danger, and I admit that I loved every second of her clinging arms and legs. She was glued to me.

And I was glued to her. She didn't let her grip falter until we'd retreated to the house, long after the noise of the helicopter had faded into the distance.

Her world is so large and unusual. But I get to be the one who shrinks it when needed, making it common and comfortable.

It was a splendid afternoon. Life was good.