Yesterday I was out in the backyard with my son. He was pushing around the big mower, making the engine noises, while I just watched him go. It was warm out, and upstairs I could hear my wife clinking around in the kitchen. The dog was freshly walked and just kind of hanging out.
It sounds like nothing. But it’s my life and I love it.
Inside, the television was only a button click away from announcing just how scary the big bad world is. The computer was booted up and ready to let me know about the newest trends and fads and what people I haven’t seen since high school were eating for dinner. But out back, my son had found a caterpillar.
He squatted. I love the kid squat, his dirty knees spread apart and his head bowed, he pointed to the furry little guy wiggling across a rock. Then he looked up to me with that great big smile.
And that was it. We pushed the mower around some more, examined some sticks, played with the hose, and then it was time for dinner. Later that night as I put him to bed he reminded me that he had pushed the mower all by himself. Because what didn’t seem like anything special to me, was a pretty big deal to him.