Rubber playground blessings

Evan decided to get his hair cut. “It was bothering me in my eyes,” he told me this morning when I asked him about it, “and it tickled my back.” I told him I share his annoyance with bothers and tickles, which is why I wear mine so short.

I took him to a newly-refurbished playground with rubber flooring and climbing structures, and that turned out to be a blessing when a group of older boys playing football came careering into us and knocked me to the ground under one of them. If the playground had still been cement, as it was only a few months ago, I probably would have broken a bone. As it is, I hit hard, the boy about my size fell with his whole weight on me, and I got away with nothing more than a bruised thumb. I wonder if these rubber-floored structures are popping up elsewhere. Probably only in affluent areas.

The boys were very sweet, apologized copiously, and took my suggestion that they go play in the grass and leave the playground to small children and grandmothers. 

My half-sister is arriving this afternoon for her first visit to Portland. It is only my second time ever to meet her, so my commenting will be minimal to nothing at all for the next few days.