impromptu date.


When you strike off into a hot, muggy evening to retrieve your kiddo from day camp only to find out that your gregarious son has decided that yes, in fact he does want to stay for "family night" even though when asked multiple times at drop off if he wanted to go he emphatically said no. 

Ok. No problem. We have no picnic. No blanket. No nothing and we have about 35 minutes until said "show" begins. Hmmm. Thankfully having driven to Lincoln, MA where Drumlin Farm is located from every which way I know that there is a traditional, quirky ice cream stand up the road that also serves food. Hustle, hustle off we go to procure our hamburgers and fries and soft serve swirls. 

Suddenly, as we are sitting at the red sticky picnic tables. 

I slow down. 

Wait. 

This is it. 

This is Summer with my boy. And I am thankful for his indecisiveness. I am thrilled to be on a impromptu date with my Oliver. 

Back to camp we go. Our bellies full of unhealthy food and capped off with a sweet treat. Oliver sings with his group. We watch the show as the sun dips further into the sky and afterwards I get my own personal tour of the farm from my bug. 

He strides off confidently to the big red barn to show my Jane, the dairy cow. He sweetly calls out to her, 

"Hi Jane, hi Janie..." 

She turns her large head and huffs. 

Oliver adds, " Oh Jane is tired, it's been a long day for her." 

Heart melted. 

We walk through the children's working garden by the goats and he gingerly points out the lettuce that he planted and the one wilting radish plant that he was oh, so proud of. As we walk back up the long, rambling path to the car I feel so proud and I wish I could freeze this moment forever. His sweaty little hand in mine as he tells me tales of ladybugs and honeybees. 

Slow down.

This is it.

Summer with my boy. 















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