I had just finished a lengthy serious post for the day. Too serious for my own liking. I closed my laptop with a click, opened my bedroom door with a creek, and ventured off to find what the day had in store for me.
As I stepped into the hallway I saw my son from below, climbing up the stairs carrying my large exercise ball. As I watched him climb, he did what any ten year old active boy would do; decided that carrying the giant ball up the stairs was just too mundane. He tossed it towards the opening that lay at the top of our stairs.
I watched the ball soaring through the air. I watched as it caught the edge of the very top step in perfect unity. I watched, in slow motion, as the ball propelled back towards my son, slamming him square in the face, his cheeks slowly wobbling backwards from the force.
Doing everything I could to stifle the bubbling over laughter that was ready to erupt from my insides, I calmly walked past my son. I patted him on the shoulder…
“Welcome to the family kid, you get used to it after awhile.”