Waiting in the car. The air conditioner is blasting loudly at full speed, and the 8 year old has control of the music. She’s skipping through songs like there’s no tomorrow.
The 2 year old is crying for daddy, but he’s getting the food for our picnic. I remind her to be patient.
There’s so much smoke in the air, the mountains are obscured by a white haze despite it being a sunny day.
There’s a line of green trees to my right. The pine is my favorite, because it has a lovely shape against all the deciduous trees.
A scuffed up truck with a missing back window is driving backwards through the parking lot. It pulls halfway into a stall, idles for a minute, then exits onto the road.
My husband knocks on the car window. I help him with 2his the drinks and bag of food.
There’s a couple making out under a tree at the park, but the place otherwise empty. My husband asks is we want to find a different spot.
I reply, “Nah. Let’s show up with our gazillion kids, and let them see what they have to look forward to.”