Last week, my Dad built a fence in my backyard. I helped. And, by helped I mean I followed him around tidying up obsessively and sorting his ratchet-wrench-thingy attachments into size order. Oh, and holding stuff. I was awesome at that.
As previously mentioned, having your parents staying with you can make you regress slightly... During the fence making, I became my 12 year old self, who loved it when Dad would say "Good tackle! Go yourself!!!" when he watched me playing Touch Football. He is an accomplished sportsman. I played Touch Football and Hockey with moderate success until I was about 13. Then I discovered boys. And sulking.
But last week I wanted him to say, "Good fence holding! Good drill passing!!" Ridiculous.
As we have all seen on the news, accidents in driveways happen constantly and needlessly. It breaks my heart. Our family has such a tragedy in it's past, and it was often on my mind. I would text the Lovely Husband almost every afternoon, saying "We are outside, come down the drive slowly!!" I was in a state of cat-like readiness at all time, ready to leap up and grab the boys if a car came down that driveway.
So, I am now incredibly relieved that our little boys are contained and safe. Thanks Dad.