warpedpink
Member
- Joined
- Oct 26, 2009
- Messages
- 841
- Reaction score
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I’ll just walk you through what happened from my perspective.
It was early afternoon, we’d finished our school for the day, and the kids were scattered around the house doing who knows what. I was doing laundry and trying to weed two weeks’ worth of leftovers out of the fridge when I suddenly realized I hadn’t heard from my older boy from awhile. After determining he wasn’t in the house, I felt that uncomfortable feeling a parent feels when they suddenly realize one of their kids hasn’t been where they thought they’d been for an extended period of time. Then my crazy brain ran through all the horrible possibilities, which involved everything from the creek to the pond to the circus he might have suddenly left home to join.
It could happen. He’s extremely limber like his mother.
Fortunately, after a quick check of the premises, I found him.
And then I quietly grabbed my camera.
Fortunately, my telephoto lens was already attached. I didn’t want to get so close that I’d step on a stick and ruin the moment.
Or hurt my poor, cute little toes. I wasn’t wearing any shoes.
Oh, and please strike the “cute” part from the previous paragraph. Thank you.
Former ballerinas don’t have cute toes. They just don’t.
I just sat there and watched for awhile. During that time, chubby George decided he needed to roll over and stretch his bones a bit.
My boy didn’t even move.
I think we’ve been working him a little too hard lately.
After awhile, I just couldn’t stand it. I had to have a closer look. So I ever-so-quietly circled around to the other side, keeping my lens at its longest length so I could keep my distance.
I saw that my boy was half asleep…and that George was giving his hand a right good licking.
I don’t think my boy minded very much.
I wouldn’t have minded either. Once you get past the first few seconds, it really is a nice little tickle.
Then this happened. And I wiped a tear from my eye. It was the sweetest thing I’d seen in a long time.
Plus, I was hormonal.
Then George went ahead and sacked out again.
And my boy looked at his dog-spit covered hand and probably wished he had a handi-wipe or two.
***You may all go wash your hands now.***
I know I suddenly want to.
It was early afternoon, we’d finished our school for the day, and the kids were scattered around the house doing who knows what. I was doing laundry and trying to weed two weeks’ worth of leftovers out of the fridge when I suddenly realized I hadn’t heard from my older boy from awhile. After determining he wasn’t in the house, I felt that uncomfortable feeling a parent feels when they suddenly realize one of their kids hasn’t been where they thought they’d been for an extended period of time. Then my crazy brain ran through all the horrible possibilities, which involved everything from the creek to the pond to the circus he might have suddenly left home to join.
It could happen. He’s extremely limber like his mother.
Fortunately, after a quick check of the premises, I found him.
And then I quietly grabbed my camera.
Fortunately, my telephoto lens was already attached. I didn’t want to get so close that I’d step on a stick and ruin the moment.
Or hurt my poor, cute little toes. I wasn’t wearing any shoes.
Oh, and please strike the “cute” part from the previous paragraph. Thank you.
Former ballerinas don’t have cute toes. They just don’t.
I just sat there and watched for awhile. During that time, chubby George decided he needed to roll over and stretch his bones a bit.
My boy didn’t even move.
I think we’ve been working him a little too hard lately.
After awhile, I just couldn’t stand it. I had to have a closer look. So I ever-so-quietly circled around to the other side, keeping my lens at its longest length so I could keep my distance.
I saw that my boy was half asleep…and that George was giving his hand a right good licking.
I don’t think my boy minded very much.
I wouldn’t have minded either. Once you get past the first few seconds, it really is a nice little tickle.
Then this happened. And I wiped a tear from my eye. It was the sweetest thing I’d seen in a long time.
Plus, I was hormonal.
Then George went ahead and sacked out again.
And my boy looked at his dog-spit covered hand and probably wished he had a handi-wipe or two.
***You may all go wash your hands now.***
I know I suddenly want to.
