Last week we went to Carl's Jr. for lunch. The place we ate had one of those little indoor playgrounds and I was bound not to let Duane play there because of how many older kids were already there. We sat in the main section of the place, but could see the play area through a large glass window. When our food came, Duane began insisting that he wanted to play. We told him to eat his food and we'd think about it. (Let's face it, that always means no).
Duane insisted and, finally, I told him. "You go play, but we're staying here to eat." I fully expected Duane to give in. Never, in a million years, would I have believed that he'd go on his own. He's the kind of kid that needs someone to sit and watch him play.
After I'd said that, he jumped off the booth and went, by himself, to play on the indoor playground. I was torn with pride and nostalgic longing. Here was my baby, deciding he didn't need his mom to go and play where big kids were. He wasn't intimidated and played happily for awhile before coming back and taking bite of his cheeseburger only to run back in.
Pastor and I were nervous parents and watched his every move. My plan backfired completely and I was reminded of how fleeting childhood/babyhood really is.
