Friday came bitter cold and brought a chilling rain that spattered against the glass all afternoon, leaving tiny dollops of crystals lying against windshields and window panes. Gray clouds hung seemingly right above our heads and encompassed the darkened city like a big top tent. Only, no circus.
So, we made our own.
Friday nights are family nights and our routine has been to enjoy the indoor pool at our gym. Steamy, sanitized air fills our nostrils as we four hobble barefoot across the cold tile to wade into welcoming warm water, gradually moving deeper as if testing the ocean. The thick water washes over our bodies, and the cares or stresses of the day float away with it.
The kids love to sink their favorite submarine--papa--and ride on his back in the chlorine depths, keeping his head securely underneath. He pushes up like a bull whale for air and they slide off, giggling in his created tidal waves. Choruses of "again, again!" rise up through the bubbles, and they push him down like like a tree log bobbing in the river. When he comes up for the umpteenth time he changes the game. Now, he throws them, their little limbs flailing in the air for only a second before tumbling into the pool. This continues until someone gulps water instead of air, and we freeze play until the coughing and sputtering have subsided. Then, it's on to the game of tag around the giant mushroom fountain.
Waterlogged and weary, and with much protest, we wrap in thirsty white towels and head home to dinner. Our pruned fingers feed hungry mouths until we're just too tired to eat any more, then we all plod upstairs to bed.
Friday is the best day of the week.