There’s a bench (not an industrial bench) at the Topeka Zoo that I will sit at when Josh takes the kids into the rainforest. I can’t go in there unless I have to because the smell and humidity make me sick to my stomach and causes a major head.
So I sit outside, and wait. I have some quiet time to reflect on what is the meaning of life (42). I listen to the sounds of the birds inside the rainforest building. I hear the honking of the geese. I hear laughter of kids on a nearby playground.
It’s a peaceful feeling, though I am wishing that I was inside, enjoying the wonder of my kids’ enjoyment of the birds and animals. The ability to spend the rest of the day with my family, though missing those few moments, is worth more than seeing those few moments and feeling them ruined moments later when I feel the need to just crawl under the covers, with my trusty bucket friend. Just in case I don’t make it to the bathroom in time.