“Arrrrrh!” came the screams from the backyard. “Get awaaa-aaaay!”
From the yells it was clear the kids were chasing each other around the yard.
Sitting in the kitchen with a cup of tea, I smiled to myself. And it wasn’t because they were outside and I was inside. For once.
I remember the sheer joy such a simple game of tag gave me as a kid. I used to play it on our front yard with my brother and sister and the other kids in the street. That, or Red Rover or Murder In The Dark or any number of games I wouldn’t even be able to tell you the name of. It was all fun. More fun than these electronics which seem to have taken over our lives. I never hear the kids playing on an iPod and chuckling.
Not like they were today, laughing and screaming.
Well, screaming mainly.
“Arrrrh!” squealed the kids again, only this time they weren’t outside, racing past me like a herd of spooked cattle. Little Miss3 was trailing along slightly behind the others, obviously reveling in playing the role of ‘it’.
“Stop her, Dad!” yelled Master.
“Why would I do that?” I laughed at him, pleased my parenting had, on this occasion, shied away from yelling at everyone to get back outside and leave me and my teacup alone. Thing is, they all seemed to be having so much fun.
Or at least Miss3 was. She disappeared after them into the lounge room with an odd sort of gait which involved trying to hold one of her feet out in front of her as she ran.
“But, Dad,” screamed Master10 again, “she’s got dog poo on her foot!”
Now it was my turn to scream.
But she didn’t.
Not by the time I got to her. The floors on the other hand…
“Raising a family on little more than laughs.”