An outing
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I got home from the Seminary and took three of the kids up the street to play. The road further up has better asphalt so bikes and skates and skate boards run a bit easier there than closer to the house. The sun was going down and the temperature dropping while somewhere overhead a space-probe is on its way to Pluto at 47,000 mph.
One child shoots down the grade on a street luge. Another battles the forces of gravity and inertia on her in-lines. Another races the other two on a rear-mounted tricycle--pedals spinning and churning like the hubs of a chariot in an ancient monster Chariot rally fresh from the Monster Chariot Garage--BEN HUR VS. BIGFOOT! SUNDAY! SUNDAY! SUNDAY!
The stars are peeking out--Orion is the first on the dance-floor of sky tonight. Enough heat is still rising to make every celestial diamond sparkle.
The gladiators swap vehicles and Boom! COLLISION! The skater rests delicate ankles in her extreme and oversized in-line ballet boots. The boys swap lies and I find myself answering questions and voicing opinion in that great debate surrounding The Boogie-man and the legions of Sewer Monsters introduced to the conversation by my oldest boy now that darkness has fallen.
The sound of hard plastic wheels again shred the night, harmonized by the sounds of dogs doing their duty of protecting their masters from their front yards.
Now its too hot, too cold, too dark and too scary.
Time to go home.
I wonder if one of those stars up there is new to the sky tonight--on its' way to Pluto . . .
One child shoots down the grade on a street luge. Another battles the forces of gravity and inertia on her in-lines. Another races the other two on a rear-mounted tricycle--pedals spinning and churning like the hubs of a chariot in an ancient monster Chariot rally fresh from the Monster Chariot Garage--BEN HUR VS. BIGFOOT! SUNDAY! SUNDAY! SUNDAY!
The stars are peeking out--Orion is the first on the dance-floor of sky tonight. Enough heat is still rising to make every celestial diamond sparkle.
The gladiators swap vehicles and Boom! COLLISION! The skater rests delicate ankles in her extreme and oversized in-line ballet boots. The boys swap lies and I find myself answering questions and voicing opinion in that great debate surrounding The Boogie-man and the legions of Sewer Monsters introduced to the conversation by my oldest boy now that darkness has fallen.
The sound of hard plastic wheels again shred the night, harmonized by the sounds of dogs doing their duty of protecting their masters from their front yards.
Now its too hot, too cold, too dark and too scary.
Time to go home.
I wonder if one of those stars up there is new to the sky tonight--on its' way to Pluto . . .
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