Two days of constant rain. Bailed up, inside Oma and Opa’s place. The backyard is right there, but may as well be a hundred miles away. Two foreheads pressed against the glass, yearning for freedom. One at head height, the other round about knee. That’s when it happened…
The stupidest idea I’d ever had as a father.
We both saw it. A break in the weather. A crack in the clouds where golden rays of light spilled down taunting us like a beckoning finger.
Let’s do it.
Before you can even say “let’s do it”, he was already rapping on the window, shoes in hand, pleading with Mumma to let him out into the sun. “Okay,” she said, “but you should probably take Indy with you.” — Fine (sulk, sulk)…
Off we go. Two intrepid explorers venturing off into the wilderness. Indiana Jones would be proud. Father and son, off to conquer the elements and take on the surrounds like Bear Grylls in Man vs Wild.
Through the back gate and out into the back paddock. Trudging through knee-high grass, I turned to see Indy’s head bobbing just above the grass-line, grinning from ear to ear. The ground teeming with life. Bugs and insects foraging, building, reinforcing after the rains. Me and my boy, collecting rocks and jumping over puddles. A true Huck Finn moment.
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