Slice of Life with The Village Kids

What happens when the sun shines and a work-from-home mom finally feels caught up with work?

First warm day of Spring
I closed my laptop on a good week of work
And turned my intention to two simple truths:
Kids and sunshine.

My boys hopped off the bus
I met them in sock feet at the picnic table
And watched as they
Opened their bookbags.

Jack showed me his art project,
The kind with a pastel watercolors
Washed over bumpy, misshapen ceramic,
And “Jack” etched on the back.

Max chatted nonstop about
How many pages of The Titan’s Curse
He managed to read
When he should have been listening
To Mrs. Stabins.

The boys asked to go back to the schoolyard
To the stream
So they can play Pooh sticks
Absolutely.

We padded across squooshy ball fields
To the schoolyard where we
Dropped Lego men in the ‘stream,’
Which was nothing more than a raging swale.

We watched the Lego guy float
Until it was inches from being swallowed
By a huge vortex created by an even bigger drain pipe
And shouted, “Lego Guy! Saved again!”

We jumped in puddles
And squooshed in mud
And climbed fences
And rode our scooters across high stadium seats
Against Mother’s wishes.

We walked past the track team,
past long-distance runners
and 40-yard dashers,
And past the high school,
Located, curiously, next to the church
Where skateboarders huddled against the brick.

We walked past Henry’s old barber shop,
Once draped in red velvet wallpaper
Until he and his razor-sharp accoutrements
Were asked to vacate after forty five years.

Which made room for the consignment shop
Full to the brim
With costume jewelry, faux leather bags, and cheap pottery
And that miniature knight in shining armor
That can’t seem to sell.

We turned the corner at the old red mill
Where the fury of the early spring waterfall
Splashed our cheeks and rumbled our rib cages
“Can we go to the Brewery?” they asked.
Of course.

We entered the restaurant, nearly empty, and sat at the bar
My kids and I, at the village ‘bar,’
4  o’clock on a Thursday.

I told you the sun was shining

The kids bellied up and ordered two root beers.
I ordered a Coke
Then a light went off
And instead, I ordered a beer
Not just any beer
Rohrbach’s Scottish Ale
Local brew, as good as chocolate.

Max nursed his root beer
And pretended to watched Iowa vs. Michigan
While Jack ate up all the pretzels
And kicked his legs against the stool

I sipped the froth off my brew
Wondered if I should try my luck at Powerball
And bent over to hug my nearest
More times than I recall.

We paid our bill, left the restaurant, and hung a Louie
We set our sails “Due West!” on the Dollar Store
Where, in our mind’s eye,
The sun shone on mountains of cheap candy.

We navigated our way across the street
Skirting the vacant car dealership
Narrowly missing the bowling alley
Where pizza is sold by the slice.

Then we sailed into the Dollar Store,
Cruised by plastic flowers, safari prints,
And Chinese vases,
En route to the Saccharine Passage.

We carried sackfuls of loot to the register
Where my eldest offered to pay for it all
He, a Wii-shaped Pez dispenser
Jack, a dozen rock candy rings
And me, an eight-pack of Reeses.
Of which five are already gone.

I told you the sun was shining