Springtime with a Sparkle
Springtime is chasing the zigzag path of dandelions through the yard to find each one. It is digging in mulch. It is dirt under the toe nails and the awareness that white clothing has a remarkably low success rate. Springtime is blonde hair bobbing underneath the hose’s spray, giggling hysterically through the mist, and hiding under the deck table with Wallie for some shade. It is sidewalk chalk and kisses on skinned knees. It is eating bubbles and occasionally blowing them. Springtime is thunderstorms, and extra books at bedtime while the last of the light in the window dissolves into a quiet dark blue. It is our clothes smelling like the grill, and Wallie smelling like the yard, and Adalyn smelling like sunscreen and grass and the baby scent that never fails to soothe. Springtime is cloth diapers waving on the clothesline, little hands handing me the next one with the explanatory ‘deh!’ for diaper. It is the cool of the library for storytime, where fresh chubby ...