Last night my husband suggested we go down to the river to enjoy some time alone, just Mr. Stuff, me and the rocks.
I like rocks and I always have. When I was a kid I had a
huge rock collection that I would lug around in an ice cream pail. I remember how
satisfying it was to find that perfect tiger rock (you know the ones that are
orange and have the black stripes or speckles in them) and racing back to the
house to show mom, yet another rock. I loved taking my tooth brush, yes the
tooth brush I was currently using to clean my teeth, and scrubbing the dirt off
that beauty of a stone. But, last night’s expedition down to the river wasn’t
in search of striped wonders; it was a lesson in skippin’ rocks.
So, if you don’t know me here is a quick tutorial on how I
work.
1.
Have very little to no coordination.
2.
Am top heavy, don’t believe I need to explain
why.
3.
Am a girl.
4.
Am very girly in most things I do.
5.
Never wear the appropriate foot wear.
Mr. Stuff picks up a beauty of a rock, flat, round and
smooth and without any effort skims the surface of the water jumping that baby
three times across the river.
“Wow, that’s amazing.” I’m in awe at how effortless this is
for him.
“It’s easy, you try.” He always has such faith in my
abilities, but I know he secretly loves to watch how much effort it takes for
me to do any boy related tasks.
“Ok, but I don’t think I’m gonna do it.” You see, I believe
in planning ahead, that way there are really no expectations in place for either
one of us if I fail.
I find a rock, looks like it will work to me and take up my
rock skippin’ stance. I feel like I have good form, I watched how Mr. Stuff
carefully placed his rock between his fingers and mimic his motions and I fling
my rock into the water. It ricochets off a boulder in the middle of the river
and almost hits Mr. Stuff in the head.
“So, let’s find you a better rock.” He is so patient and supportive.
He lines me up, shows me how to use my whole body and not just my tyrannosaurus
arm, moves my hips in the motion I need to create an effective follow through
and hands me a rock. Okay, it is at this time that I realize flip flops are not appropriate footwear for any river rock trek or balancing on for rock skippin' adventures.
I hurl it into the water, then another and another; I am now
a rock flicking robot. Like an out of control mechanical thing I just start
throwing rocks into the water as he dodges the ones that fly sideways and way
too high in the air. And then finally, I do it. It skips once.
“I DID IT I DID IT!” Not since I gave birth to my youngest
son have I accomplished such a feat of skill and agility. Never, have I been as proud of myself as I was
at that moment when that flat, round pebble skipped across the water.
Mr. Stuff was proud at his teaching skills, and then told me
to do it again. AND I DID! How exciting! But then I could see him from the
corner of my eye flicking something at the exact moment I released my rock. Mr.
Stuff was skipping my rocks.
