While I was braiding Peyton’s hair, I saw a bruise on her arm. I asked her where she got it. It was a perfect circle. She said, “I think that’s ‘pernament’.” She repeated “pernament” quite a few times, and then settled on it. She pressed it, and said, “It’s okay, it doesn’t hurt.” She told me she’s playing four square now. With new friends. She said she is the only girl playing. Maybe that’s why she is bruising.
Finally, I was getting her clothes out for tomorrow, and I asked her which of two shirts that matched a pair of shorts she liked. I was holding one shirt in my hand, and she said, “To be honest with you, I like that one better.” Seriously, who is she talking to?
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Nothing made me prouder for him to say that. He told me, “Well, you’re not going to be able to do this with me after tomorrow.” Sigh…I’d wanted to play so bad when I was a kid. We even had a “rally” going, and we were up to 10 catches in a row. We each took turns dropping the ball to lose our rally, but he was happy to keep going. Our goal was 15, but we didn’t make it past the 10. He was willing to try again until his team arrived. Then, he slowly sauntered off the field and put his stuff away. The other kids started to warm up, but he sat around since his arm was sufficiently warm. I told him my arm was going to be super sore tomorrow. He said, “Why?” Haha…I wanted to say “old age”, but I didn’t have it in me. I’m not going out like that.