Her small stature and short legs, compared to mine, didn’t matter; she gave it full energy, boosting up past me with ease. She brought encouragement, too. “This is lap six!” she shouted over her shoulder, elbows tucked at her sides. Classic walker’s position.
I knew how lucky I was to have her, one of my favorite people, as company. It was beautiful out, too, with warm sun on my skin, a slight breeze at my back. And spring had sprung. I soaked it up, caught in the afternoon perfection.
Suddenly something made her slow. Had she pulled a muscle? Seen a snake or spider cross the path? I’d been concerned she might twist her ankle, given she was navigating the rocky path in flip-flops.
Little hands cupped little cheeks. “I hafta toot!”
But it didn’t slow her long. “Lap seven, Mommy!” And she took off again, leaving me in her four-year-old dust.
I've never enjoyed a walk so much.
Visit Janna's blog, where she captures life through writing, at Something She Wrote.