Even

The days are starting to stretch out now into the long sunny ones that I’ve been missing.  This winter was a nice frigid way to remind us that our blood had started to flow a little too Texish.  Now that the sun is out and the wind less biting, Gideon and I are starting to venture out. 

 Last fall, when the air had already turned crispy, a friend chided me to “get out and stroll!”.  And I wanted to, but I couldn’t seem to figure out how to go for a walk with three down comforters wrapped around my legs. Since the rebirth from the blanket cocoon, I am still testing out these strolling wings.  In so doing, yesterday, we went to the park.  On the way there, he was dead silent, which is his default setting for whenever he is outside of our house. Inside he is chatty.   He has opinions about everything.  He yells words and laughs at private little gibberish jokes he tells himself.  He is effervescent.  Then I put on his shoes and the switch flips. He’s somber and studious.  He’s not amused and he’s counting the minutes he must endure all of this.  He would especially like it if you would stop looking at him. 

So, anyway, we went to the park.  We went down slides.  We were swinging.  We felt the sand.  We watched a little floppy haired dog go down the slide with some mildly sadistic teenagers who thought it was hilarious.  We got back to walking before he was forced to do the monkey bars….

And he jabbered for the rest of the walk. 

Not a moment of silence.  He had something to say about everything he saw, or maybe he was just trying to convince me to go back and save that little dog.  I’m not totally sure, but we’re going to go back today.