Calm. The sun kissed the air with warmth today, before it settled in among seashell clouds spread across the sky like they've been tossed with tides and left to be collected by a passerby, one more memory of a day spent with the sea.
I gather bright colored beach towels from around the pool, twelve of them, and half a dozen more fluffy white ones from my bathroom. The children who transformed from tank tops and cut off shorts to evening gowns and tuxes, and back again in a blink of an eye spread them to dry on the pool chairs. Now that they have gone, the scene is just more laundry.
What isn't just something else to clean or put away are the memories. The funny kid who kept coming back for more plates of eggs in the morning. The one who thought i believed his outrageous lies, simply because he wanted to go outside and smoke.The mother who wrote me a thank you note...before the party. That is optimism.
And my kid, smug, happy, in his element.
Anyone who wants to put down teenagers hasn't met the ones I know. They make me laugh. They make me know we are doing some things right.
That was Saturday night and Sunday. On Friday I had a date with a blue-eyed blond, with tousled curls who likes nachos and ice cream at the ball park, but doesn't care about hot dogs or beer. He taught me about the relative speed of sliders and curve balls and split fingers. And to pay attention to how Clemens winds up. It was with brutal honesty though that he explained that the rally hat was embarrassing. Well heck. We were down 3-2!
"Does it really look bad?"
"Lets just say you've had better days."
Maybe, but not many.
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