Yesterday I can home from my post-work run, hot, sweaty and a little bothered by a nagging muscle pain. Darian was heading out to the airport for the evening and was waiting for me to watch the two kids who weren’t at dance with our nanny. And I remembered that I hadn’t remembered to get groceries. It all felt a little complicated. When I came through the door, laden with several bags, Milan was standing in the kitchen. “Mama I want to be with you,” he said.
And I stopped. Looked at him so sweet and small. With such a simple request.
“Want to see something funny?” I asked
I put everything down. And he followed me to the pool. I stood at the edge. “Push me,” I said. He looked at me. “Push me.” And he did.
Fully clothed, I cannonballed into the middle of the pool. “Come on in,” I said. “But I just bathed, and I’m in my pajamas,” Milan replied. “Take them off.” “But that’s weird!” “Not so weird,” I replied.
And so we swam. Me in my running clothes, and my sweet, small, naked little boy, enjoying the indulgence of opposites. A small taste of impulse and a nibble of freedom.
And then we dried off, and everyone came home, and life continued as normal, except for the fact that the complications of my day had somehow floated away in that pool.
Sometimes contentment is just that simple.