Last Saturday, after “Aunt” Cindy Frigard left our house for San Francisco, (too brief! come back soon!), D and I took a long hike, a bit longer than I’d planned. We ended up at Cottonwood Beach, where we hunted for treasures and listened to the sound of the gentle waves lapping up on shore.
It was quiet as D waded, and the low sun was making tiny pieces of sand glimmer like gold.
He said to me suddenly, “You’re the best Mommy ever.”
It was already getting late — up against dinner time with a long walk back to the car, when we got a call from Aunt Cindy to say she’d left an important bag in her rental car at PDX, and could we retrieve it before something happened to it? D exclaimed with a thrill, “We got a call!” which is the refrain he uses when playing out rescue scenarios at home (police, fire, ambulance). He was amazed to have received a “special assignment,” and we hustled back to our car (1 mile away maybe?), hit the road, figured out where to park, to whom to talk, and retrieved the bag. All the while he was totally up for the challenge, pretending to be a Special Agent. Between the adventure in the Columbia River and the rescue call, it was a perfect day for him. And me too.
You’re the best Son ever!