Eli is not my demonstrative son. He glides through life on a spectacularly even keel. He does not wear his emotions on his sleeve. And this is only partly because he never actually wears sleeves- t-shirts year round for that kid. He doesn't ever seem to be physically hot or cold either. Just fine. Comfortable. Quietly content. So it is pure joy to catch him letting out a little woo-hoo every now and then. This winter it happened out on skies. He'd be striding along next to me, narrating some event in his head or his book or a comic. Then we'd crest a hill and head down, Eli still narrating away, but in the middle of a sentence a quiet little woop would sneak in. Then back to the confident quiet striding forward (with narration- nothing is done without a little narration).
This past Sunday we were treated to the most fabulous March 14 in the history of Minnesota. After a bleary week of grey drizzle the sun popped out and the temps hit the mid-60's. The day before people had been skiing over at Wirth! And here it was suddenly summer. Eli got a little extra sparkle in his eye and asked us to dig out his bike. He then cruised the sidewalk in front of the house while I soaked up the sun in one of our adriondack (sp??) chairs. Our street is flat. Maybe a 1% grade when you come from the north. But the sun, the breeze, the littlest of slopes was enough to ellicit a couple quiet 'woo-hoos' from Eli has he spun around on his bike. Made that already fabulous sun shine even a little more brightly for his old mom. I love that little whoop.
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