Today my boy is happy.
We usually do his "regular" school work after lunch. You know, like those half-day kindergarten classes that meet in the afternoon instead of the morning. Some math. Some reading. Some writing. The baby is sleeping, the house is calm. It's the best time for him, so it's the best time for me. But today when I went to gather him up, he was putting on his boots.
"I need to go outside, mama."
A Michigan winter will soon be upon us. So few days of "I need to go outside" left. I hand him his jacket.
He zipped out the door. Out the gate. Out into what he must think a huge, glorious expanse of forest. What's fenced in back there can't be more than half an acre, but to him...to him it's the world. The dog bounds down the steps after him.
"I was being a chicken!" he tells me when he comes in. "A chicken in the dirt. A chicken in the woods. A chicken everywhere." The chickens had been following him. I want to thank them for letting him know that he was doing it right.
"Oh. Here. I found these in the nesting boxes." He pulls four perfect eggs out of his pockets and sets them in the carton on the counter.
There will be no "regular" school.
And today I am happy.