Finn was looking up at me, smiling and pointing down into the cool water filling up the nine dollar inflatable pool. We were standing in it, he in his red tee shirt with the whales, and me in the clothes I had worn to work. After an oppressive 90 degree day complete with the mugginess you usually only find on the east coast in August, a little water time seemed like a good idea.
I looked down at him as I held the hose that was slowly filling up the pool. "No, no, sweetie. I have to go inside and put on my swimsuit. Then I can sit down." Then I thought, "Why? This seems like one of those times for you to let go of all your expectations, not worry about the things that need to be done, and enjoy your child."
So I sat. He laughed. We splashed each other. We stood, jumped, sat, stood again, walked in circles, splashed, and laughed some more. Finn caught sight of a beautiful monarch butterfly, swooping amongst the lavender milkweed, bergamot, hyssop, and oregano, and he watched it, standing still in the water until it was out of sight. Bees bumbled. By the time Pete rode into the driveway, we were soaked, and my eyes were smeared with the remains of the day's makeup. He took over the merriment, and I went inside to dry off and cook dinner.
This morning, right after Finn woke up, I took him outside to the porch to say good morning to daddy. The boy was whining about wanting pillow time, but I distracted him with neck snorgles and nommy sounds, and he laughed until he snorted. Then we had a family hug, swaying in the morning light.