Easter

A happy memory from this Easter 2014.

I gave the kids each a pack of balloons in their Easter baskets, and Layla was happily playing with a pink balloon that her daddy blew up for her.  I told her she could take her balloon outside and play with it, only to watch the wind catch it and take it away as she watched.  Hurrying outside to see if I could rescue it, I saw it bouncing patiently by the high chain link wire fence across the road.

I told the kids to stay in the yard, and scurried across the street, with Caroline on my hip.  The balloon swooped and darted out of my reach, pausing for a moment and then gusting on, bumping and skipping as I jogged and then ran after it with Caroline giggling away.  It made me smile how she was laughing.

I thought I had it cornered by the dumpsters; it sat quietly and then leaped up and out of my reach at the last minute, taking a long and high hurdle up over the dumpster, and then onto the school roof and disappeared.  With my hand shielding my eyes, I stood watching as the kids yelled excitedly from fifty yards back until I eventually saw it bounce gracefully over the roof edge on the other side of the school.

Hustling down the pavement I ran, the sun shining brightly on my baby and my flip flops, the calls of the children growing fainter as the distance between us increased, and was pleasantly surprised when I rounded the corner to find the balloon waiting patiently, bouncing gently about a yard away, shielded from the wind that had initially blown it there.

Two quick steps and I snatched it up with my free hand and then turned the corner and gave the tightly held balloon a jubilant thrust up into the air, waving it triumphantly at the children lined up on the sidewalk waiting about a hundred yards back who jumped and cheered in excitement.

The breeze was cool, laced with spring warmth, and the sun shone brightly and cheerfully on us as we walked a happy walk home, my girlie and I, to return a pink balloon to an rejoicing Layla.