Perfect

It is a November day, but most of the leaves are still green.  The weather is moody; first sunny, just warm enough to not be cool, then bright grey and gusty, and now I see more sun in the west.  Moody, but perfect.

My children are playing in the backyard.  All three of them.  Together.  I am not privy to the rules of their game, and probably won't be, absent an egregious violation requiring my intervention, or a ride to the hospital.  There is an elaborate fantasy world out there, involving costumes, weapons, negotiated loyalties, and the not infrequent use of the word butt.  And, (this is my favorite part), as for as I can tell, they are all on the same side.

But, it is a school day, and at some point, I must make them come in, sit still, and learn something on purpose.  They won't like that. And neither will I.  So, for now, for a just a few more minutes, I sit at my desk, my cold toes telling me flip-flop weather is over, listening to my children make friends with each other in the whole wide world that they have imagined for themselves.  Because it is important to learn how to do that, too.