Annals of Play

The armada readies for sail to friends and family. Senior son's creation.

Marble track. Free-for-all general marble bedlam in the interior, the sound of glass crisply colliding, the ping of the marble meeting metal. Picked up one by one and lined up like a precision acrobatic team to orbit the rim, spinning round, then gracefully descending to the concrete. A slight push sends them around again with the red, green, yellow swirls in the center fluttering like tiny flags. Youngest son's creation.

And the reason why I've been away. My sweet mother's day gift. The house dirties. Dog hair swirls in tufted eddies under the couch. Suppers are pulled like a miracle from quickly assembled foods. In the evening, the kitchen is tidied. Dishes cleaned. I sit down and play, go to bed too late, and wake up in the morning with my body hazy from lack of sleep to start the cycle over again. I am in love.