Can you time us Mama?
The girls race around me, barely able to stand still enough to fling the words at me and rush on.
Since I wear no watch, my scientific timing consists of counting slowly as they run across the lawn, weaving, laughing, legs and arms a blur.
21 seconds…a new world record! I shout as they hurtle across the finish line, the place where the lawn meets the driveway.
It has been years now since their chubby toddler legs gave way to these graceful girl limbs, and I still marvel at the change.
They are beautiful, my racing girls. I give up my timing duties to join them at the starting line, to try my luck against these gazelles on the lawn.
I adore Five-Minute Fridays! Visit Lisa-Jo to read other writers take on race.