This past Saturday, the spring breeze was the kind of cool tickle that makes you want to stand outside with your arms spread wide and spin around like a five-year-old. You want to stick out your tongue and taste the sweet air.
That day, my kids and I went to my brother’s home for lunch. My parents, grandmother and in-laws were there, too. It was no special occasion, but it seemed like a good time to get together.
Inside, there was a spread of BBQ, hot dogs, chicken and ice cream. We feasted, but the outside called to us.
In the spring air, we played like kids on a carpet of green grass. My 5-year-old daughter rode piggy back while I danced around like a mad woman. My 4-year-old son drove one of those monster wheels toy cars like an old pro. I even drove a rider lawnmower for the first time. And, my sister-in-law taught her nieces how to turn cartwheels.
Sometimes, I grapple with whether Saturdays would be better spent with my kids taking tutoring courses, practicing for dance or football or whatnot. This Saturday, though, I began to think: These moments of bonding, frolicking, of learning life lessons from multiple generations are priceless.
When my kids get older — and me, too, for that matter — we will think about this past Saturday (and hopefully many others) and muse, “remember that time…” and smile.