On my weekend

If my blogging could be any indication, I am so back. But then I was never even 5km away from home on the weekend that-was.

Last week, I had been excited to wear a tan when I get back, I thought, to work this week. But no, my skin didn’t have the glow of an after-beach tan. Because I didn’t have skin-baking sessions under the sun.

I had been yearning to hear the sweetly enticing sound of the waves as they run to kiss the sands ashore. But heard none over the weekend.

I didn’t even have the chance to smell the salty tang of the sea.

But I don’t mind. Certainly.

Instead, I have basked in the warmth of my son’s peals of laughter. Basked in his wide-eyed attention when he thought I’m heading out of our room.

And I have alternately heard my son whisper and yell sweet-nothings to me.

I have one too many “catch me” games with him. So much so, that at one point, I started feeling cross with all his seemingly unending attempts at mischief. Actually, I got cross because I couldn’t have as much bounce and energy to match his.

And we had so much cat-dog moments, some funny, some wacky, some nerve-fraying.

But all in all, I had a fun-filled weekend too (despite that Sunday incident).