Over dinner (open-faced sandwich with ham, cheese, and banana - his idea), my son announced that he wanted to go to the "High Swings Park". The weather was beautiful, so I agreed that we should.
In the car, he told me that he wanted to swing "way up high into the sky." In the parking lot at "High Swings Park," he told me that, when he had been born, he had swung way up into the sky. I told him that I didn't remember that, but he was firm: it had happened. Not on his birthday, but when he was born. I had pushed him in the swing, way up into the sky. I wasn't even sure that this was possible.
There are three black swings and one orange swing at this park. The orange one is his favorite. I helped him into it and pushed him a little...
...some more...
...a little more...
...until he was getting pretty high, and then I pushed some more...
...and a little more, and then this happened:
Way up into the sky. Just like he said.
Wow. The fantastical element carried me away. I can envision this becoming a short children's book. Really nice.
ReplyDeleteThank you! :)
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