what's underneath.

i took this two days ago while sitting a few feet away from z, hoping i wouldn't have grass stain on my butt when i got up. we go to the park nearly every day. z gets a free ride for three miles while i run. i hope to get a new jogging stroller soon, because the hand-me-down i have feels like pushing a wheelbarrow full of bricks. people are usually around when i'm heaving the jogger into the back of my car, and i like to pretend that they're thinking how strong i am. maybe i should let out a loud "eeeeaaaaahhhh!" like the muscle guys at the gym do when they're lifting the straight bar with 200 pounds on it. you know, just for effect.

after our run, i take z to the field next to the mini golf course that has yet to be manicured for the upcoming season. it needs a quick shave and some cologne. z is wholly uninterested in it. at his age, a chain link fence isn't worth his curiosity. so he runs and runs in the field. falls down. stares a dandelion right in the eye, says "pree?" (that means pretty), and i say "yes, baby. very pree." then he plucks its head right off its body and smashes it in his hand, half-squealing, half-grunting with joy. 

on this day, z discovered the shelter in the field. there are three of them, all with a concrete slab, brown picnic tables, and a brown roof. the one near us, near the slovenly mini golf, was the smallest of the three. z would stand on the cement, then step into the grass, back and forth, over and over. he liked how each surface felt beneath his feet. then he discovered that big, metal circle, which might be a water meter cover or a manhole, but i'm certain it's the door to the rabbit hole. he stomped around the door a bit, then stepped into the grass. back and forth. hard to soft. over and over.

i was thinking, z taught me something at the park. the rabbit-hole door and the grass, they're like life. our first year was like that door. hard as steel. harder, maybe. as year one came and went, the grass started to grow, and as my baby stepped into it, i did, too. we found our soft spot. i bet life for z and me will always be a lot like a day at the park. we'll stomp around those hard spots, and we'll relish the splendor of the grass.