I had every intention of writing this last night while the memories were still very fresh, but by the time 11:30 p.m. rolled around, it was very obvious that a coherent blog-post was not to be.
Anyway, yesterday Eric and I ventured out to Bass Lake again, this time with 3 of my friend's kids. We all had a great time splashing, goggling (is that a word?), boating, and going down the slide. Yes, even I sent myself slinging down the slippery surface in what I can only imagine was a blur of knees and elbows. But I loved it.
Well, Eric wanted to go down as well--he had been down it before and he loves that kind of stuff, as long as I catch him at the bottom. So, up the steps he went (the steps, though, are uncharacteristically steep, which was unnerving enough) with me close behind. Once he got to the top, I told him to sit down and wait for me to get to the bottom, like usual. He was almost seated, so I turned around and took a step away. I took one last look up at him, though I wasn't sure why at the moment. And doggone-it, if he hadn't just missed the seat and was falling backwards off the top of the slide. Everything slipped into slow-motion and I could feel my palm press into the back of his life-jacket as he continued downward. Hitting my hand made him roll to the right, so my left arm rolled right along with him and I swirled him into my body, under my neck and against my chest. The world felt like it was instantly in fast forward: kids were still running everywhere, the next kid took the opportunity to go down the slide, a lifeguard half-attempted a warning about Eric falling (that was tons of help), and I felt my heart pounding against Eric's life-jacket. I needed to sit.
We dangled our feet off the side of the dock for just a couple minutes before I realized that a two-year-old doesn't need to just sit there, remembering the terrifying experience, even if I was convinced I was on the edge of having a stroke. So, I happily hopped back into the water and started bouncing him around and splashing. And just like that, he forgot. I didn't ask him if he wanted to go on the slide again; I already knew the answer.
A little while after we returned home, I made dinner and Eric and I sat down to eat. I prayed first and thanked the Lord for allowing us to enjoy such a beautiful day and for
keeping us safe. I also thanked Him for the food and for friends, etc. Well, then it was Eric's turn and he tried repeating everything I said, as best he could:
"Dear Lord, thanks for ... safe, and ... play in da water and ... nice day and ... milk and ... dinner and ... table and ..."
I could tell he was running out of steam, so I was preparing to break in with "in Jesus' name..." but before I could I heard...
"... and bye!" Apparently Eric had "hung-up" his spiritual cell phone conversation with God! I laughed so hard! It was the cutest thing. I leaned over and squished him in a hug and silently thanked the Lord for the wonderful blessing he had put in my life, named Eric.