When I find ourselves devilishly stealing uninterrupted batches of time away together, I want to sink every ounce of my presence in it. He could be talking about baseball or taxes or the hockey parenting life dribble that I hate with a passion, I don’t really care. We rarely get moments together – just him and I.
We were in our backyard sitting on the steps just outside of the patio door. There were thick rain clouds looming which sent Chunky Monkey running for safety in the house but we stayed out swapping stories of anything and nothing.
“The neighbour’s must cringe when they see us sitting outside,” I said.
Shawn furrowed his brow.
“Our garage door has holes in it, black circular marks, one light is cracked, and is missing siding, from Chunky shooting all the hockey pucks,” I said as I gestured to the door, “And we don’t have any patio furniture.”
Shawn started to laugh. He got rid of our patio furniture 2 years ago because it was “starting to rust” and we had planned on tearing out our entire driveway and patio and getting a new one.
But life happened and our driveway was put on hold.
So we were left without any patio furniture other than the cheap lawn chairs that make your ass and thighs look like waffles if you sit on them for too long.
In the grand scheme of things though, not having patio furniture isn’t a big deal. It really isn’t. We’ve made do with sitting out on the driveway, the grass, the porch, the stairs, or on the back of my husband’s truck bed like a bunch of hillbilly red necks. I can only imagine what the neighbour’s think and quite honestly, I don’t care.
I really, truly, honestly don’t.
Which is why this neighbourhood is built for us.
We feel comfortable here.
On one particular morning the sun was perfectly hung, like just before the tips of the trees reached the clouds and there was this occasional gentle breeze that tickled the hairs on the tops of our heads that went a hundred and one different ways. We were in our PJ’s still and we were camped on the pavement.
“The backyard neighbour’s can see us!” my son said, “They probably laugh because we don’t have a table like they do.”
And I said, “Or maybe they’re sad because they aren’t having fun like we are.”
My son smiled and nodded his head in agreement. He leaned back with his book and stuffed animal and went back to his reading. I went back to enjoying the breeze and peace and what was left of the June morning.
My running thought in June was for us to just make it to the end of the month and here we are: July.
Now all I keep thinking of is that we need to do more of what makes us happy as a family.
And care a whole lot less about what others think.
So bug off Vicki and your perfectly manicured lawn and your fancy solar lights that could attract a plane in your backyard.