We have a big yard. A large lot was one of the things we were looking for in a house. I thought half an acre would be big enough for our brood, but Trent wanted more. Our yard is one of the biggest in the neighborhood, and I think we're starting to regret it. A large lot requires more work and money to keep up than we had anticipated. Nevertheless, the kids love it (except on work days). And the neighborhood kids love our yard, too.
The folks who lived here before us were the sweet, but distant, grandparently type. The first weekend after we moved in, the doorbell rang. It was a bunch of kids, wanting to know if they could come over and play night games as soon as it got dark. They'd never played in our yard, and thought our grassy spaces and mature bushes would be great to run and hide in. They were right.
They've been playing night games on the weekends ever since. Some weeks the numbers are sparse, and the boys run around the neighborhood to drum up players. Some weeks it turns out to be the younger teens and tweens. Some weeks it is the younger elementary set. Some weeks there is a veritable mob.
Tonight there was a good group of kids running wild around our yard. They yell and scamper. I love watching them. It was fun to see a tall, lanky boy duck out from under the bushes, followed by an older girl shepherding her little brother along. It's just fun. They have so much fun playing.
I wish I could go and play so lightheartedly. Wouldn't it be fun? And irresponsible? And fun?