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Going Down the Slide
Ess has since outgrown it, but she used to always want to sit on my lap down the slide.
You are viewing stuff tagged with slides.
Ess has since outgrown it, but she used to always want to sit on my lap down the slide.
And there I am on the busy playground, looking up at my daughter with her two stuffed monkeys as she is about to put them down the slide. It is still a little cool out, winter into spring, and the clouds blot the sun, making it easy to see her clearly.
Down the slide goes one monkey, this one not quite as precious to Ess, this one the emissary into the world, spiraling down towards the ground. And up the slide charges someone new, one taller and bigger and stronger than my daughter. I had anticipated this: aware that these stuffed toys, so obviously having only spent time indoors, away from rain and dirt and vicissitudes, would attract all kinds of attention.
When I’m older, this is probably how my brain will remember every single time we went to the playground: perfect summer evening, sun setting making everything glow, Essie having the time of her life.
Ess is taking good care of her favorite friend monkey.