“Please don’t,” She said holding her little finger, angry and red with the thorn poking half in and half out, her little eyes watery. “Please, it will hurt.
“Sweetie, we can’t just leave it in there.” I reached for her hand but she jumped back and hid her hand behind her back.
“No!”
“Darling, if you don’t let me take it out, every time you bump your finger it will hurt. It might hurt a little bit when I pull it out but then it will stop hurting.” She eyed me suspiciously but the little hand was back in front of her. I reached down and we looked at it together. Then taking the tweezers I pulled it out. “See that wasn’t so bad.”
She was off and gone her little pink and orange sun dress blowing in the wind as she ran across the yard. Soon she was flying higher and higher, her little legs pumping up and down on the swing.
Later on we had a picnic on the cool green grass. We lay back feeling it tickle our skin as we looked for animal shapes in the puffy white clouds. Summer had arrived and I intended to fill it up with all the moments like these I could before the summer when she was too big for sundresses and swing sets and her booboos were larger than those you get from thorn bushes.
No comments:
Post a Comment