Flash forward: We are sitting there in the backyard watching our two children run around the sprinkler, trying to see who can get the most soaked. They are trying to fight over the water gun that sends the fastest shot of water, the older one obviously winning the fight. From across the backyard, I can see a water balloon flying through the air splashing the feet of our children.
He’s looking at me now, with another water balloon in his hands, his eyes debating on throwing it at me. I put my finger up to try an assert dominance and so he can see that I’m not for it and before my finger comes down, I feel the cold water hit my lap. I grab my water bottle as quickly as I can and fling it the across the yard, water spewing as it makes its way, landing about 2 feet away from him. The children pick up on this behavior and are suddenly running towards us, water guns filled to the brim. Laughter filling the back yard as we are throwing water all over the place. This is home for us. A backyard where our children are running and playing without a care in the world. They are soaked, covered in mud, tackling each other to the ground. You and I sit there and bask in the beautiful image in front of us. They are us and we are them.
Present: We are sitting at lunch, you’re eating a meatball sub and I have my usual order. We are talking about my first day of school and how amazing the kids are being. I look into your eyes and flash forward.
Lee Ann Mercurio 