On Saturday there was much activity at our house. We had a community garage sale, and then cleaning and showings because we’re on the market (which sucks). In the morning my daughter got up, got dressed and helped her Daddy set up for our own sale. By mid-morning her friends were up and out and she was across the street playing. Around 11 she asked if she could head to the park, and we didn’t see her again until around 4 p.m.

She was wearing a bathing suit for most of the day. She came home happy, and with a sunburn (her first).

It was any normal Saturday of my childhood, and I’m thrilled.

My sister and I used to grab our bikes, meet up with friends, sometimes pack a picnic (usually including uncooked Pop Tarts) and roam around our neighbourhood all day.

We had friends throughout the neighbourhood, we had bikes, we had hills and trees and a dead end, and a park and splash pad at the other end. Sometimes one of the parents (usually Anna’s dad) would take us to the pool. Sometimes we would start the day in our own backyard and then our playground would grow.

It was glorious. It was freedom.

And as I applied lotion to my kid’s poor sunburned shoulders, I relished that she is feeling that freedom now too. Start the day playing and pick up friends along the way. Sharing popsicles, in and out of each other’s houses. Coming home tired, sunburned and dirty.

It’s the perfect summer.


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