Surf's Up

There is no danger of oversleeping when I'm on vacation. My seven-year-old nudged me awake this morning like a wave rolls, bubbling and fizzy, onto a pebbly shore. His eyes twinkled as soon as they opened, and he sprang from bed with an idea--it was time to go fishing. And he was off to get dressed with socks but no shoes--he grabbed his tackle box as I snagged my double-thick sweater and a cup of coffee behind him. There's no question, we are at the stage of parenting that asks, "Who knew our third would be so spunky? How bored would we be without him?"

Later, we ended up at the beach for brisk air bath. While my teenager and I guarded ourselves against the wind, the youngest ran ahead, springing from rock to rock on the jetty. He led a skipping contest and swung long sticks in dangerous directions. The puppy kept up, open-mouthed and leaping right along with him as the tide lapped at their footprints. 

On this day, we jogged the aisles in the grocery store, went head-to-head in Candy Land, gathered kindling and logs for a crackling fire. There was no sinking into the sheets until bedtime, only effervescence and chatter about tomorrow's plan for more of the same. I'm riding this wave because surf's up, and I know too well: one blink of an eye, and I'll miss out.