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Tonight, within the space of an hour, when I thought I had no more stretch to stretch, I ended up being stretched a little.
My son gave advice on how to scrape the deck, played "corral the ball with the skipping rope" (just like a horse) and invented a version of badminton, meticulously soaked his head with the water in a coke can over the sink and planned in minute detail how to make a hanging spider out of a ball of string. He moved effortlessly between these tasks.
I thought, man, I sit all day at my desk. I manage people and send emails and orchestrate things over the phone and pay bills and negotiate deals and I am not nearly as productive as he is being in this one short hour. He is using muscles I never use.
sigh. muscles in need of flexing. sometimes, in watching, they're already rejuvenating... (its my hope, anyhow) but there is also something timeless in the adult's watching the child with wonder and delight and incredulity... its a rite of passage for us, i think.
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