Sobrinos

Post-wedding, I got to spend three glorious days enjoying the company of my nephews and niece.  The boys, S and L, are 11 and 9 respectively.  A, the littlest, is 4.  ("I'm four," she declares, "What number are you?")  Three glorious days with my sobrinos.

At the beach, I taught them how to jump waves and let them carry you.  S, who is strong, punched the waves when they tried to push him over.  L, who is adventurous, sprung forth into them and over them.  All of us played in the tide, digging holes for the water to fill and wash away.  A laughed and laughed, tumbling in the sand, until her fingers and lips turned blue from the late summer ocean winds.

At the park, we played pirates on the unearthed tree roots from July's storm.  We were fierce pirates, masters of strange seas, as we took turns making the others walk the plank.  When we were done being pirates, we climbed backwards on the slide and took a spin on the merry-go-round.  I was 4, and 9, and 11 with them, reliving my visits to the same park with my aunts and uncles and grandparents.

At the house, we drew elaborate hopscotch-obstacle courses on the driveway.  We played "Hug-zilla," a tag-you're-it kind of game with hugs instead of slaps or pushes.  Later, S read to me as I fell asleep.  My heart was full as I listened to his mouth form the words on the page.  I remembered when he was small, when we would cuddle over his board-book copy of Go, Dogs, Go.

What delight, three whole days with S, L, and A.