Adulting in Autumn
As Jayne swept the rake through the leaves, she thought about how she had loved autumn before she became older.
After she became an adult, autumn became work. There were back-to-school shopping trips and the endless raking of the leaves. She remembered how she had loved the crackling of the leaves, bonfires, and jumping in the leaves. There could be no jumping in the leaves now. It would just make more work later.
Just as she finished with the mound of leaves, she saw her children’s bus pull up. She made an important and split decision.
“Quick, guys, get your backpacks off and come over here,” called Jayne.
Looking confused, her son and daughter shed their backpacks and made their way toward their mother.
“We can’t rake leaves,” her daughter whined, “We have homework!”
“Don’t worry. There will be time for homework. We have something more important to do right now.”
Taking each small hand, she surveyed the mound of leaves that represented an hour of her afternoon. All of a sudden, she yelled, “Jump!” and took off into the leaves.
Her children squealed at their mother’s unexpected action and followed her lead. The day had just gotten better. Gone were all thoughts of homework and chores as the trio crunched the leaves under their feet and tossed them over their heads.
Her husband arrived home from work and saw his family giggling and covered in leaves. He gave Jayne a quizzical look and asked what had happened.
“We’re having a good time,” she replied,” Do you want to join in?”
“I’m hardly dressed for frivolity. I’m just ready to sit in front of the television for a while and wait for dinner. Do you need to finish raking the leaves first?”
Jayne decided that the leaves could wait until tomorrow. She had a good time with her children and recaptured a snippet of her own childhood. She knew her children would remember her spontaneous act. She was certain she’d never forget it.
“Let’s get cleaned up. I’ll start supper and you two can start your homework.”
Seeing their fallen faces, Jayne took the two hands once again and said, “Come on; this weekend we will have a bonfire!”
The two bundles of excitement grabbed their backpacks and followed her into the house.
“Can we have smores?” asked her son.
“Of course! It’s not a bonfire without them!”