sandwiches









This day ended quite some time ago now. I think it was the weekend after I reduced the number of teeth I had in my mouth from 32 to 31. It was a sunny day. It was windy. The girls longed to go to the park. Nathan asked me to go with them. It was one of those days my first feeling is to stay home, but my second feeling was there was no real reason why I should not go.  The girls played in the sun. They rode scooters and criss-crossed the monkey bars in every way imaginable and then came up with a couple more. Avery watched the birds and dug in the sand. I sat in the sun, finding a warm place where the wind was not so effective at beating out the heat of the sun. I watched the water, the birds, some paddle boards go up and down the channel. Planes took off, dogs sniffed and pulled on leashes. Girls walked by while conversing with each other and on their phones.  Birds hunted for fish, taking flight and landing, craning their necks and scooping up minnows. The wind blew. Planes took off. Sadie came by to see what I was doing. She discovered the low tide and decided to put her toes in the sand. Palm trees swayed. Pigeons strutted. Planes took off.
Emma came over to see why Sadie had disappeared. She decided her toes needed some sand as well. They ran up the beach and down, avoiding the slimy, wet sand as instructed. Soon the scooters were calling again for a ride and up the rocks they climbed to answer the scooter's call. Hunger called me. Sandwiches were in order and I knew just the place. Planes flew over head. We walked and scootered to the bakery to join the crowds of families, old people, young people, couples and friends all there waiting, talking, ordering, laughing.  It was a wait. But it was good. Sometimes when your expectations are met with a challenge, it can be so nice to change your plans, your expectations, and make it work. Good food and good company always help. And with the passing of days, the grumbling and difficulty melts away and leaves just the good stuff, like the wax leaving the mold.
 What you are left with is a well sculpted memory of a simple Sunday afternoon.

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