Again and Again

Again! Again!
I'm sure I yelled these words one thousand and twenty times when I was younger, smaller, ready for the thrill of the spin for the world.
But this time it wasn't me.
This time it was Jacob, age four, former peg-legged pirate and a part-time cowboy.
This time it was Jacob yelling, begging, pleading for the thrill of another spin.

Spin me again, Awayna! 
He threw his arms around my waist, tightly tugging my body, my mind, my heart strings into his tiny orbit.

Okay, Jacob. This is the last time.
The truth dripped out of my smiling mouth. I was lying. We both knew it.
We spun.
We spun again.
And then some more.
These are the happiest sort of lies a person can tell.


This post is part of The Creative Collective, a synchroblog among friends. Check out others' writing and art on today's topic "The Earth around the Sun, or the Sun around the Earth: Centers of Gravity."


A.D.B. Jones said...

To be honest, this reminds me of VBS. On our final night this summer, a small girl stomped my pinky toe by accident. Yes, the toe bled profusely - it was entirely covered in red, even wetting my sandal. And yet, the game of 'red light-green light-chase one another' had to go on. Again. And again. Until snack time (thank the Lord). :)

Well put, well described, Alaina.

megan e b jones said...

I love it. I love the childish enthusiasm and which I had it every day when I wake up. Let's do it again today, Let's do it again today, and today and today.

David said...

Every time I see this activity I am struck by how much trust is employed: the child's in you not to drop him; yours in yourself not to let go; the parents' in you not to harm their child. I am thankful "I've got you" is seldom a lie.

Magic John said...

I need more kids in my life.

Don't care how creepy that sounds. Sometimes I try to remember what it was like to be a child and it's actually hard to remember. There is so much joy one misses out on by not being able to hear and see and play with children.

Alaina said...

John, one of the saddest pieces of moving into my life in NC was stepping away from a place where I could take a "tether ball" break from work at almost any time during the day. Working with a school was life-giving in a lot of ways and I miss the laughter and the scurrying.

(Things I don't miss: the dishwater smell of the cafeteria, the borderline insane amounts of security required, and bullies. Bullies suck.)