Today while baby slept and Charlie and Abby did therapy, I retreated to the backyard with two blankets, a pillow, and Jack. Lying in the warm sun of April in one’s backyard is a particular pleasure during Spring Break.
While I curled up in a ball and closed my eyes, Jack:
*Pulled one of the blankets from beneath me and made it magically disappear. If my neighbors find a green fleece throw with sticky yellow cottonwood seed pods everywhere that made the journey over the fence, they will know from whence it came.
*Sat on my arm. 90 lbs of Jack, giving some deep-sensory pressure goodness to moi.
*Curled up beside me and threw his leg and his big hobbit foot over my knees.
*Got naked and pranced around, his gleaming white bod a pillar of pale on the greening grass, which strikes me as rather appropriate for a happy, sensory springtime ritual of someone who doesn’t care one bit about what other people think of a nudist welcoming spring.
I love spring and I love your description of celebrating nakedness. It almost inspired me to run naked through our backyard and then, for some reason, I did not.