Unexpected

Kids grow up; I know this. It even happened to me once. As a parent, it's one of the few constants. We know it's going to happen - we see that it has happened. Sometimes, though, the actual fact of it hits home in unexpected ways.

Sam runs like a real person.

You know how little kids run? They kind of remind me of groundhogs. A groundhog running looks like a fur-covered bag of bowling bowls rolling down a hill. Little kids look like that, only less coordinated (and without the fur). Watching Joey run on the sidewalk is a great cardio workout for me; my heart never stops pounding. Every step looks like it might be The Step, the one that is just a little bit more out of control than all the others, the one that will ultimately lead to the bandaid drawer. Sam used to run the same way.

Yesterday Sam and I were searching for treasure (and fighting monsters and outrunning giant rattlesnakes and chopping down trees and lighting cookfires) and I was running behind him down the street. It hit me then, watching this short drink of water pelting down the sidewalk, that I wasn't worried about him bailing with every footfall. He was running like it was the most natural thing in the world, like he'd been doing it forever. He was running like birds fly, or monkeys climb, or teenagers eat. It was beautiful.

I know that he's still a kid, and a little kid at that. I know that he'll still fall and that the bandaids will get used. I know that there are plenty of things left for him to do, and plenty of time for us to share while he does them.

He is growing up, though. I think I need to go give him a hug while we're still running together.