Close The Browser

“We learned about salmon. Then we did some math and some reading and then some other stuff.”

That’s how Anna described her day at school while she sat on my knee. Not often do I slow her down long enough to catch such details.

She flips her head around to show me how she tied and pulled up her hair up into a knot she describes at “totally cool”. It’s impossible not to smile around Anna. She throws herself into everything she does. While the rest of us walk together, Anna dances and twirls and skips ahead of us.

I thought about tuning in to watch the presidential debate this evening. Instead I decided to spend my afternoon running errands with Luca before stopping to speak with a friend on his porch. A good friend is there when you need him and willing to listen. A close friend tells you what you don’t want to hear, but need to. That was the case today.

As the debate was about to start, I decided to take Lincoln to basketball practice. This is second organized practice he’s attended, and he’s still learning the game. I watched him run up and down the court with his close friend not far behind. He’s so serious. I wish I could inject him with a portion of Anna’s carefreeness.

When I returned home, I checked Facebook and Twitter and both were filled with reactions from the debate. That’s when Anna decided she wanted to tell me about her day.

“Pretty soon I’m going to be too big for your knee”, she tells me.

“I’ll just have to use both knees.” I reply.

Sometimes it’s best to close down the browser. Tonight was one one of those times.

3 thoughts on “Close The Browser

  1. Nice. I don’t think you could ever make that choice too often. I challenge you not to turn on the browser until after you help get the kids to bed. I know that is what I appreciated most when I had kids. Of course it wasn’t a browser when they were the age of your kids but it was still electronic interference .. Haha


Comments are closed.