Tiny Hands

A rainy day with Cal meant that we had to get creative by the afternoon. Opening that first pot of playdoh took me right back to my kids, to my playgroup days, to Cal's mum sitting at tables doing the very same thing with them. We made stars and buns and balls and cut shaped. We rolled and hammered and pressed hard. I loved it.

I was fascinated by his reluctance to do anything more than take certain colours out the pots, then put the doh straight back in. Orange, pink, blue, and green he played with, but only one colour at a time.

Mostly, we played with tractors and farm animals, interspersed with taking bear a walk in his buggy with me following on behind with the pull along dog. I laughed so much and so did he.

Home to see my girl and her man. They talked of holiday dreams, festival plans, job possibilities. Their joy in what could come was delightful. Why do we have to get older to truly appreciate the opportunities we have?