Slowly, ever so slowly, we are seeing moments of fresh air filling our lungs in the sunlit hours. George, Annika, and I ventured out a few days ago and enjoyed a round of kicking the soccer ball. But before any activity made its way to our feet, our hands were much more engaged in a particular area of interest.
Let's just say that it's been a long winter. And with that, the curious nature of my daughter's sense of exploration hasn't had it's full effect on the wonders of the good 'ole outdoors. Now you must understand that indoors we have been working hard to help that nature of her's to be polite in what she touches. Therefore when she wants to use this keen sense she asks, "I touch it?" Which she is hopefully being met with an even number of yes and no's.
However, all this did not prepare me for Annika running up to me in full excitement and asking, "I touch tree?" Can I just say, I've never been asked this, nope, not once. It reminded me ever so poignantly how new it all is for her. And how the grid for what is normally accepted as touchable is apparently not very normal yet.
So what did we do? We touched the tree of course! And the one across the yard. We went back and forth, tree to tree. We discovered one was rough and full of sap, yucky, while the other was smooth and kinda fun to hang on. We took turns "hanging on". Seems only George really knew what that was all about...the little monkey.