Scurrying

We're headed for the lake and a weekend camping trip this afternoon, so after breakfast and sending N off to work with hugs and kisses, we set our bodies to scurrying.

L sprinted upstairs to pack her suitcase (don't you pack your pretty floral overnight bag for two nights in a tent?). C spread out his puppeteer supplies and started a show about that snarling pirate again. I tossed in a load of laundry and began scratching around in the garage for sleeping bags, flashlights and the camp-kitchen box.

I ground two mornings worth of coffee beans, chopped and bagged produce, pre-boiled pasta, baked muffins and divied spices into lidded tubs. I was feeling pretty proud of my progress, when in my haste, I knocked over a quart-sized tub of snack mix, the tiny pieces of which scattered across a particularly sandy and cat-hair-laden part of the floor. This led to a bit of under-the-breath expletive spewing, a deep breath and some vacuuming, followed by the command decision to take a break and go outside.

Our doorbell rang just as we donned swimsuits and sunblock for a dip in the kiddie pool and, boy, did that lead to a fantastic surprise and a sharp upturn in my attitude.

Standing outside the threshold was our neighbor girl, who had an armload of hand-me-down toys for our kiddos. With wide eyes, L welcomed a gently-used pony palace and some magnetic dress-up dolls, while C took proud ownership of a veterinarian play set with a tiny puppy, whom according to C knows how to fly.

 

We said our thank-yous and brother and sister promptly set to work on the sidewalk with their booty, taking occasional breaks for splashing.

 

I rested, sipped, checked my list and remembered why N often reminds me that we need not purchase new toys for our children. Somehow the best stuff comes to us just when we need a little more inspiration in our day.