It's Nice Out...

I've decided it's time to resurrect Everloving Mess, the blog. I don't know what happened. I just sort of abandoned her. She's been calling me back. So here we are.

We're in, I don't know, day three million and two of the coronavirus quarantine, nobody knows what day it is, or time it is, and nobody cares. I sometimes put Baileys into my first coffee of the day and think nothing of it. And such is life.

But today. OH TODAY. So far we've had a spring that hasn't known what it wants to be, but today, oh GLORY, today! It's sixty-something degrees. The sun is drenching us with his molten heat like a lover returned from the war, and the breeze...I can't even talk about it...it can blow all it wants to and you're never too warm or too cold. You could lie down in the grass and die and be totally hunky dory about it.

Well, can't waste that kind of day, can we? It was coming into noontime, I took a look at Calvin and I said, "Buddy, we are going outside to play. Shoes and socks, let's go."

"Shoes and socks" is Calvin's way of telling us he wants to get the fuck out of the house for crying out loud, so that's the only prompt he needed. He was into it and good to go.

So off we went, across the road of our townhouse complex, and into the playground. It was empty, so no worries about having to play keep away from the other kids on the jungle gym. A few neighbors were walking dogs and had stopped to have a socially distanced chat. Every now and then the breeze wafted their conversation to me, it was something about how they like to work out. I liked the fact that people were talking to each other about their lives, out in the most perfect day imaginable. 

Oftentimes when I take Calvin to the playground, I get a little bored, I want to read a book or play a stupid game or watch Netflix on my phone, but not today. Nope. Felt too good to bask in the sunlight. It felt good to watch my boy and wonder about all the things he was thinking but can't tell me out loud. I was enjoying watching him spin his bright grass-green ribbon, making perfect spirals like some kind of perpetual motion machine; he loves to do that. Every now and then he'd stop the twirling and look up to see what the bird sounds were all about. Sometimes he'd stop and just look like he was drinking the wind. 

By and by he wandered over to the swings. All the swings had big mud puddles under them, and he was eyeing the situation a little disconcertedly. I told him, "Sweetie, no worries, I don't care if you get dirty, swing on the swings if you want to." And so he did. He loves the swings. I do too. 

That's when I looked down for a sec. I wanted to check out the pictures and videos I'd been taking....seeing about which ones I should share with my people to show them this perfect day...inspire them to come out and drink the wind and soak up the sun like we were doing. It was maybe two Mississippis. When I looked back up again after those two Mississippis, I saw that Calvin had kicked off his shoes and socks and was merrily kicking at the mud puddles with exuberant abandon. Two seconds, that's all it took. Oh well, I sighed. It's just good, clean dirt. Not going to dampen my mood. I went and gathered up the shoes and socks and let him have his way, swinging up into the sky, kicking at the filthy muddy water every time he splashed down to earth, soaking his pants from the hem to over his knee. Who cares. It's a beautiful day. How long have we waited for a day like this. Two million and three days, that's how long.

Sooner or later, the boy was done with swinging and made his way over to the jungle gym--one of those typical newfangled plastic things with the slides and the different ways to climb onto it and plenty of room just to sit and hang out on the little platforms at varying levels. Cal likes to make that thing his own, and on a day like today, having it all to himself, he was a happy camper. He settled himself on the edge of one of the platforms, got his bright green ribbon going, swirling and swirling, reminding me of DNA helixes, getting a little hypnotic to watch...so much so that I must have closed my eyes for a few seconds. It was so nice where I was. There's a gazebo in the middle of the park, and I was sitting on the little concrete floor on the outside perimeter of the thing. Didn't want to be in the shade, not on a day like today. So I sat there, like a happy kid on a porch stoop on the first perfect day of the year, and let myself drift. For a few seconds, though. Not for long. I have a fourteen-year-old autistic, nonverbal boy to look after who has at least 6 inches and about a hundred pounds on me, so it's not like I took a nap or anything. Just closed my eyes for a brief moment, breathed in the day, let out a contented sigh, opened my eyes....

And proceeded to shoot across the green, green grass of that playground between the gazebo and the jungle gym so fast that I KNOW it looked like a special effect from an episode of The Flash. I don't run to get out of the rain, but right then, right there, I  was Jessie fucking Owens. 

Because when I opened my eyes and directed my gaze to my beloved boy, there he was, COMPLETELY NAKED FROM THE WAIST DOWN. No pants. No underwear. Nothing between his adult-sized man genitals and the beautiful beautiful day but a gentle spring breeze.

Yep. My boy, All six foot something, 240-plus pounds of him. Hanging brain in the bright sunlight--swinging pipe in front of God and all the world. (In case you're wondering if we'll be on the news...probably not...someone up there doesn't totally hate me, there were no witnesses other than the birds of the air and some creatures that creepeth upon the earth...squirrels and whatnot).

His pants were wet, you see. From the mud puddle. He doesn't like the way that feels. I should have thought of that. And when the pants come off, well, the underpants just kind of go along with sometimes, now, don't they?

Jesus Christ on a Bicycle. 

My Uncle Dan used to like to say, "It's nice out...I think I'll leave it out."  I'm willing to bet his spirit was delightedly whispering just that very phrase into his great-nephew's ear, just to see what would happen.

So ended our idyllic trip to the playground, on day two million and three of the quarantine, first perfect day in forever, worthy of Adam and Eve before the fall.

And me with no fig leaf.