Can you Keep a Secret?

It happened when I was all by myself.

Well, I wasn’t completely alone. My dog, Max was with me. He’s the only one who knows the truth about his crazy fifty-something-year-old biped mom.

October must’ve forgotten it was autumn, because most of the days shined with warmth, boundless blue skies and plush greenery. On one of those gorgeous days, I took Max for a walk at a playground. A paved trail circled the park and bordered a creek on the backside. We leisurely sauntered around the empty path, but the jaunt was too short.

“Let’s go around again, Max.”

Three quarters of the way, we rounded the side by the playground. The jungle gym (JG) ahead of me beckoned, “Try climbing on me, and bring your cute pup along.”

I took JG up on the offer. I climbed the four narrow stairs leading to a platform. Max couldn’t figure out how I got up, so I directed him and he followed. The way off the platform was either to go back down those stairs, slip down a slide (right), or crawl through a short, steel-webbed tunnel (left). Max couldn’t do the slide. Should we crawl through the tunnel or just give up and go back down the stairs?

JG tempted my inner child, “Come on, Lori. No one is here. Play while you can.”

As soon as I got on all fours inside the tunnel, the steel bars reminded me of my sore, fifty-something-year-old right knee. Youch. I hurried forward to get out, and turned back to coax Max through. He placed one paw inside, but the holes in the steel must’ve seemed unstable to him, so he didn’t move forward.

“Come on, boy. If I can do it, you can do it.”

He swiftly glided through to the other side onto the platform with me. Yay! We took the easier way down. Platform-sized stairs.

“What a good boy.” I unhooked his leash from the collar, grabbed a thick stick from the ground and threw it. My happy boy went for it, ran back and dropped it at my feet. We recently learned he joined the arthritis club with his fifty-something-year-old biped mom. So, he is no longer allowed to jump for Frisbee or tennis balls. But hooray, he could run free!

While we played fetch, the swing set whispered, “Come swing, Lori. You remember how much you love the swings.”

Soon, I hooked Max’s leash back to his collar, wrapped the strap around a bench and heeded Swing Set’s call.

The motion brought on a bit of this woman’s vertigo, but I didn’t care. Legs pumping, refreshing breeze through my hair, I dropped my head back and soared into the endless sky. The yellowing treetops glowed in contrast against the bold blue canvas.

But, shh, don’t tell anyone what this fifty-something-year-old woman did. Max is keeping my secret. Will you?

Side note: I didn’t have my camera with me on the day of this happening, so I took the photos posted on a different day.

Feel like sharing any of your secrets about something you did as an adult that is usually reserved for children? A bounce house, perhaps? How ’bout diving into a ball pit? No? I’m the only one?