I gripped it tight in my hands and hit my little boy over the head.
He giggled, so I smacked him again. My little stinker grabbed his own decorative couch pillow and chased me around the living room. The sound of his laugh made the winter night bright.
My husband took the cream blanket, laid on the carpet and covered himself into a makeshift fort. My six-year-old son squealed with innocent joy but my daughter just looked up at me, confused until we crawled into the tiny space. Her eyes lit up.
“A house!” she said in her toddler accent.
Forts and a…
And that’s when the torture started.
My son in his joy spoke at a volume that made us feel like we were at a rock concert next to the speaker. But worse was how my two-year-old daughter decided to use her parents as a jungle gym. I groaned as she stepped on top of my stomach then bounced down, popping the air out of my lungs in a whoosh. Then breathed in the sweet smell of digested food simmering in her diaper.
We all laughed on the floor just like the end of a Peppa Pig episode.
In the Moment
And I couldn’t help but compare that moment to life. We all have the choice to keep to the nightly routine of being zombies in our phones, TV’s or computers, or we can do something as simple and as grab a soft weapon for a spontaneous pillow fight. And spice up life with a stinky diaper in a tiny fort. To not only live in the moment but enjoy it. Stink and all.
Don't only live in the moment but enjoy it. Stink and all. #writermom
And those are the memories I live for.
So tonight, when you see your sweet child after school, smack them with a pillow. Gently (safety first!). Play.
Or just give them a kiss and love that moment.
Tomorrow it will only be a memory.
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