... And on the seventh day, He rested.
Saturdays just don't cut it as a day off. In fact, they are just as, if not moreso, busy as a weekday. That's when you do the yard work, the house work, run the errands, do the shopping, take kids to the zoo, birthday parties, various sporting games... Saturday is NOT restful.
But Sunday... Sunday mornings, specifically, is the most restful time of the week.
I still observe the quietness of Sunday mornings. I get up, read my paper while drinking my coffee. The phone doesn't ring, no one's banging on my door (except last Sunday - I didn't answer). The mowers are quiet. No blowers blast the air. Even the traffic is quieter than usual. Not less, as there are people going to church, but the radios are down or off, no one's peeling rubber or honking horns. With this new generation of 24/7, I'm afraid that quiet will disappear, even from Sunday mornings.
This morning, after the paper and coffee, I took my boy out to breakfast. We sat at our table, he deep inside the Deathly Hallows, final installment of Harry Potter; I turned pages of Native Speaker by a Korean-descent author. We didn't speak but communicated with hands and eyes. Afterwards, we took the dogs for a walk around the neighborhood, chatting quietly and silently waving to neighbors as we passed.
The moment of laughter was unexpected and precious. One of those moments that will come back years later and leave us weak-kneed once again. It was so stupid. And so funny. We were walking along, dogs trotting and interweaving their leashes in the most frustrating way, and ZBoy and I were talking about size and relativity. How one thing determines another. Out of the blue, he asked (several steps ahead of me) about how big an elephant poops. I heard how big does Elvis poop? I have no idea why this was so funny, but my knees went weak, my head slumped forward, and it was all I could do not to collapse in the middle of the street for laughing. That kind of laughter is catching - ZBoy, after questioning me as to why the extreme reaction also cracked up. The dogs frisked around us in puzzlement and a car went by, slowing to make sure we weren't having some kind of fit.
We are home now. I'm going to take a nice hot bath before starting my busy Sunday afternoon. The boy will probably finish Deathly Hallows, then start it again.
But we've had our lovely Sunday morning - and now we're ready for the craziness of the rest of the week.
2 comments:
LOL, yes I understand completely. I often don't hear what the kids say as they are rushing or mumbling but its usually them that are laughing at me!
Yesterday, I was very lazy and spent the day reading.
Sayre, has Zboy read The Lightning Thief by Rick Riordan. My fourth-grade grandson just finished this book and actually asked for the rest of the series for his birthday (and yes, he got them). Blood and gore and greek mythology all rolled into time travel and half-bloods. Just the stuff boyhood dreams are made of, what?
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