Knowing
how much I adore swimming with the kids, Scott surprised me with a pass
to an indoor pool for Christmas. I have been chomping at the bit to put
it to use but opted to wait until school was back in session. (I knew
that the pool would be inundated with school break campers if I went
during break.) Yesterday was the first day back to school and after I
packed Robby's lunch, I quietly gathered up the swimming gear for Timmy
and me.
Timmy squealed with delight when he saw the pool through the window in the lobby. He immediately began jumping up and down, hurriedly tugging at my arm to take him to the water. As I was beginning to check in, the receptionist informed me that the pool was closed for maintenance. I was disappointed, but Timmy was absolutely heartbroken.
I scooped him up and carried him out of the gym, strapping him back into his car seat. He was sobbing, and tears were beginning to stream down his little red cheeks. I tried to explain that the pool was closed, but I knew that it was fruitless because he didn't understand. All he knew was that he saw a pool and that I wouldn't take him.
Resolved to salvage the day, I decided to try a new indoor playground. Thankfully the lure of brightly colored climbing structures and shiny plastic slides was enough of a distraction from the pool disappointment. Instead of swimming, we spent the afternoon climbing, sliding, balancing and playing. It wasn't what I had planned for the day, but we still had a blast!
After three hours, my sweaty little tumbler asked to leave. We walked through the security doors into the lobby, where I sat down to put on my shoes. Because it is easier for me to put my sneaker on my prosthetic when it is not attached, I quietly removed my leg and worked to wiggle the shoe into place.
Timmy, perhaps seeing that he had an advantage because I wasn't wearing my leg, took the opportunity to sprint out of the complex. He took off at full speed, running through the mall corridor. He was dodging people who were in his pathway, smiling and giggling the entire time. I finally cornered him when he became distracted by the large pancake sign at IHOP.
After reprimanding his behavior and with a tight grasp on his hand, we started to walk back to the playground so that I could retrieve my other shoe and my keys. An elderly lady, perhaps in her late 80s, smiled and began to talk as we walked. She spoke quietly, with a soft fragile voice.
"Oh my you have a quick one. My son used to run from me like that. So much joy and happiness." She smiled broadly and sighed before continuing, "He's in jail now." Without missing a beat she looked Timmy in the eye and said, "You can't outrun the fuzz."
I was surprised by both her story and her candor and I didn't quite know how to react. Without another word, she continued to walk past us and never looked back. I never know what will happen on our adventures!
Timmy squealed with delight when he saw the pool through the window in the lobby. He immediately began jumping up and down, hurriedly tugging at my arm to take him to the water. As I was beginning to check in, the receptionist informed me that the pool was closed for maintenance. I was disappointed, but Timmy was absolutely heartbroken.
I scooped him up and carried him out of the gym, strapping him back into his car seat. He was sobbing, and tears were beginning to stream down his little red cheeks. I tried to explain that the pool was closed, but I knew that it was fruitless because he didn't understand. All he knew was that he saw a pool and that I wouldn't take him.
Resolved to salvage the day, I decided to try a new indoor playground. Thankfully the lure of brightly colored climbing structures and shiny plastic slides was enough of a distraction from the pool disappointment. Instead of swimming, we spent the afternoon climbing, sliding, balancing and playing. It wasn't what I had planned for the day, but we still had a blast!
After three hours, my sweaty little tumbler asked to leave. We walked through the security doors into the lobby, where I sat down to put on my shoes. Because it is easier for me to put my sneaker on my prosthetic when it is not attached, I quietly removed my leg and worked to wiggle the shoe into place.
Timmy, perhaps seeing that he had an advantage because I wasn't wearing my leg, took the opportunity to sprint out of the complex. He took off at full speed, running through the mall corridor. He was dodging people who were in his pathway, smiling and giggling the entire time. I finally cornered him when he became distracted by the large pancake sign at IHOP.
After reprimanding his behavior and with a tight grasp on his hand, we started to walk back to the playground so that I could retrieve my other shoe and my keys. An elderly lady, perhaps in her late 80s, smiled and began to talk as we walked. She spoke quietly, with a soft fragile voice.
"Oh my you have a quick one. My son used to run from me like that. So much joy and happiness." She smiled broadly and sighed before continuing, "He's in jail now." Without missing a beat she looked Timmy in the eye and said, "You can't outrun the fuzz."
I was surprised by both her story and her candor and I didn't quite know how to react. Without another word, she continued to walk past us and never looked back. I never know what will happen on our adventures!
No comments:
Post a Comment