I thought I’d share my fine, fine afternoon:
My bean pole of a husband, wearing shades and a cowboy hat, manages to fit his 6’4″ body on to a battered tricycle at the park. My son is poised beside him, ready to roll. They launch off the hill together, hooting and hollering and coasting at breakneck speed. They are maniacs, and they are mine!
We walk home, stop off at the store, and buy trout, asparagus, and lemons. My husband grills ’em up while Jude frolicks with the hose and I stretch my legs in the shade of an umbrella.
Now, Jude is bathed and in bed, Will’s picked up the first episode of the last season of Six Feet Under, and I’m laying on the couch with an organic chocolate bar, ready to be entertained.
Yum. What a great day to be a mom.
Update: Today, I got a call from my nanny that Jude was throwing up and crying. I’ve spent all afternoon sopping up puke and doing laundry. I guess it all evens out, eh?