A shirtless boy

beginningWe gathered our hammocks, books, collection jars, paints, cameras, and snacks. This beautiful Sunday afternoon was going to be spent relaxing down by the creek, deep in the woods. The men folk had already begun cleaning up the path. Papa and Grandma were now able to ride the golf cart down to meet us with bottles of water, a rescue of sorts when we all realized we had packed everything but drinks.
The creek area was still very raw. Fallen limbs and saplings cluttering up our space. Clean up for around the creek was in the plans, just not today.We cleared what we needed to in order to hang out in the trees. David and I stretched out in our respective cocoons, listening to the children play.
 
The eldest sat upstream, where the dog had yet to stir up the water, and painted. The next oldest went downstream, where the water was a bit deeper and chased frogs and salamanders.


 
The youngest daughter stood in the shallow, muddy bits, digger her bare toes into the muck, thrilled that the 72 degrees meant she could leave her shoes on the bank. Little man kept watch for wild creatures. He walked logs and chased frogs. He made regular trips back to Momma’s hammock to make sure I was okay.

It was almost hot outside. Way too hot to be February. The sun was so delightfully warm that I had shed one of my layers of shirts, allowing my bare arms to soak in the suns rays. The brightness of my book pages almost making it difficult to read.
I was snuggled so deep into my hammock, deep into my book that I didn’t notice the small but thick cloud that was creeping ever so slowing between us and the sun. The small breeze, that had been a pleasant sensation in contrast to the sunshine’s warmth, quickly turned into a biting chill that left me longing for a sweater. I pulled my recently removed shirt up over my chest and arms, and made jokes with David about how quickly the weather had turned. As David was assuring me that it was a small cloud and my warmth would return quickly, a small t-shirt appeared over the edge of my hammock.
“Here Momma, to keep you warm.”
I peeked over the edge to see my sweet boy standing there, shirtless.

Backtracking Boy Talk #1

Setting: lunchtime, lunch has been cooked, mom is busy putting food on plates. Three girls are at the table. Boy child slides in and takes a seat.
Mom: “Hey buddy, are you ready for lunch? Or do you want to wait a bit?”
Boy Child: “Nah, I wanna wait. I’m not hungry yet.”
Mom: “Are you sure? Because once I fix my plate, I’m sitting down.”
Boy Child: “Yep, I’m not hungry yet.”
Mom: “Ok”
Mom proceeds to finish fixing plates for the girls, and then begins to prepare her own. Less than 3 minutes has passed.
Boy Child: “Hey! Feed me! I’m da man!!”
Three girls immediately turn their backs on the boy child. One of them is laughing. The other two are refusing to be witnesses to what they fear my happen next.
Mom stops dead in her tracks, turns slowly to the boy child, and leans down getting close to his face.
Mom: “Uh…what did you just say….to me?”
Boy Child:  “Ummm…..ummm….” *chuckles uncomfortably* “Momma, can I please have lunch now, I think I am hungry.”
Girls yell in unison: “MAY I”
Mom: “Sure honey, for a second there I thought you were on a suicide mission. Glad to see you reconsidered. I’d sure hate to have to explain to Daddy why I need more duct tape.”