Sunday Morning Twins

Playing here in the park with a 6-year-old on a cold Sunday morning while the 9 and 10 year olds are practicing soccer. I’m watching our youngest make friends with the only other adventurous little soul on the playground this morning. They just met, but they’re self-proclaimed twins because they are both in kindergarten and both love Spiderman. Never mind that ours is 80+ lbs with cute chubby cheeks and spikey brown hair, while his twin is 50lb lbs of toothy smiles, beautiful almond eyes, and black hair. They’re Sunday morning twins.

Sixteen years ago, I used to bring another early rising 6-year-old here. One with big brown eyes, giant curls, and an inherent distrust of people and playground equipment. He didn’t like strangers and he didn’t like going fast on slides or swings or anything else. He’d splay out his hands and try to slow the world down to his speed. But he’d spend forever riding his red training wheel bike around and around the perimeter of this same playground. Eventually he’d let himself join in with the other kids playing hide and seek or freeze tag, but only on his own time. And he would come away with a Sunday morning twin, who loved Teen Titans and was also learning to tie shoes…two bunny ears, cross over, through the bunny hole.

How am I 16 years older, gray hair, and an aching hip, but this feels so much the same? The world around us moves and changes so fast, but I’m forever grateful that my first 6-year-old taught me how to splay out my hands to slow the world down so I didn’t miss 6 with all the others that came after him. I think they’re all my Sunday Morning twins because of the love and life we share in common.