The Day the House Stayed Dirty

It was a weekday and I had the day off from work. I did two loads of laundry and ran the dishwasher in the morning and by the time Hooper woke up from his nap, I felt like that was enough. So I left the unfolded laundry, a dishwasher full of clean dishes, and a house with things strewn about, grabbed Hooper and headed to the beach. It was a nice day, not overly hot, with the occasional breeze that made you think twice about grabbing your jacket. We took the windy road over the mountain and parked it at the first beach we came to. One family to our right, a man sleeping with his bicycle to our left, the pacific ocean directly in front of us, blue skies overhead. It was the perfect way to spend the day, a perfect way to break the monotony, a perfect way to celebrate my days off with this little joy of ours.
I watched as Hooper slowly warmed up to his new surroundings, sifting his fingers through the sand, chewing on sticks that had washed ashore. I watched as he discovered the seagulls and continued to watch as he put all of his energy toward catching up to one. There’s nothing like watching an innocent child run after something that can fly. The first of many lessons, I suppose. I scooped him up, plopped him on my lap and tried to show him the beauty in merely watching the birds swarming above us. He rested his head on my shoulder for a second and it was all I needed to know the moment, the day, was well spent.
We returned home to dishes waiting to be put away, laundry waiting to be folded, and toys waiting to be placed back on the shelf. But we added a coin to memory bank and for that, we’re just a little richer. Sometimes, house work can wait.

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