Most evenings when her mom heads downstairs to the gym for a yoga class, this little munchkin and I, head over to the terrace for some ‘outside’ time. She insists on getting her tricycle along - handlebars all donned with Christmas ornaments and the rear storage bin full of random trinkets and toys. Rarely does she really ride it.
Ascertaining that the Sun’s still where it’s supposed to be and checking-in with the rising moon, she gets on with her daily business of running behind the crows. Time flies as she fills this unstructured play time with random activities - chasing shadows, sprinting laps, counting birds, verbal diarrhea (What color you like? You see balloon? You like it, Appa? 5,4,2,1..run) and then keeping me on my toes. As the evening beach breeze sets in and the sun dusk’s down, she makes her way downstairs casually forgetting all about the bike. When she does remember it, she wants to be carried downstairs with her sitting on it.
If not for Covid, we’d be out in the woods, making the best use of whatever little this city has to offer. But for now, I absolutely cherish this time outdoors with her.
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