My husband and the twins tore down the wooden swingset this past weekend, and I was feeling verklempt about the passage of time and the symbolic ending to my daughters’ childhoods. Mind you, no one was sentimental enough to take a “before" picture, so I had to reach back through the annals of time to find this:
Yep. That’s the old swingset covered in snow. Unfortunately, it was also covered in ants. Carpenter ants. Wood-eating carpenter ants had destroyed the integrity of the top beam holding the swings. It had to come down. Besides, the girls haven’t used their play equipment even once this year; they’re growing up and moving on to other things. They agreed with my husband that our family would benefit more from a roomier backyard in which to run around and play volleyball.
There’s the big empty space where happy memories were once made by frolicking children. Wait a minute. Hold up. Do you see what I see?
Dang nabbit, there’s a dumb moose sabotaging my sentimental memories. Why does it look so mad? I’m not the one ruining the picture, you twig-eating skinny-legged cow. Get out of my shot, you grumpy thing, you!
Oh! Sorry about that. I didn’t realize I was ranting in front of your cute little calf.
Carry on.
Dinner last night: meatloaf (ground beef—not moose!), mashed potatoes and gravy, corn
Exactly 9 years ago:
