Applause

A snapshot from yesterday: we'd spent an hour just before dinner out at our garden plot; Michael planted a new bed, and I tried to keep the children entertained and out of the seedlings. By the end, everyone was hungry and getting a little cranky. We loaded up the tools, buckled the children into their seats, and then Henry said in a panic, "Where's my hat guy?" (This is Agatha's term for any small lego or playmobil figurine.) I was annoyed. Michael and I ran across the fields, looking for it, and I found it on a hill where we'd been watching some lacrosse players. As we ran back to the car, I stopped Michael to hug him, to leach out my pointless annoyance and to try to enjoy instead the fact that we were outside on a beautiful spring day, planting food and being together. As I embraced Michael I looked inside the car, and both children were clapping wildly. It was for the found hat guy, but still.