At the Park

They watched Arlo skate around that big wide concrete bowl, carefully counted sour patch kids into evenly divided piles upon their lap, sat silently on a blanket in the sun feeding ducks with what crumbs they could gather while the younger ones played store with other children whose names they would never learn. Girls buried boys in the sand, neck deep and laughed heartily at their accomplishment. Climbed the fences and built cities in the dirt. Traded toys, for more candy while they lined dominos into tidy little wooden boxes. Dollar store treasures they have since lost.

They wore themselves out, entirely.
All limbs and brains exhausted by early evening, wind chapped faces sinking by the time the sun went down and the air took a chill.

We ended the day with frozen yogurt before heading home in a sea of traffic. The girls spent the night and woke easily to a big pink box of fresh doughnuts and the regular morning piano serenade from Natalia, the neighbor girl they can't seem to neither befriend nor completely avoid.

All and all, it was a good day to be a kid.