"Yeah, I'm not sure what all it includes, but her pics sure looked like her boys were having a great time," I said lightly to the husband as we worked to convince our own sons that wrestling time needed to move to the great outdoors. It was 10 a.m. on a Sunday and they'd been up since six. In our house, this is the "witching hour," where snacks are needed and enough playing has already happened that it's fight or flight for the parents. From here it's either take them out to run them ragged or pretend you can accomplish chores without screaming at one another or locking yourself in the bathroom.
Shrugging a sling bag over my shoulders (water, 'screen, shoes the toddler won't put on, change of clothes, snacks), we loaded into the car and headed south, answering questions of how far we were on our journey and pointing out every digger along the way. Twenty minutes later we arrive, a blue sky lit against a rainbow of primary colored metals and ropes. Not to mention natural looking logs, springs of shooting water and gaggles of people with smiles plastered on their faces.
For parents with young kids, this was utopia.
The boys squealed with delight, forming their plans of what they'd tackle first as they raced their way toward the fun. Parking was easy despite the large crowd and each child seemed to have went for the water first, delighting in the anticipation of when each pop of liquid that would head their way. Next, the big guy went for the unique swings, all perfect for his size, comfortable and new. The two found their way to a sort of merry-go-round next, aiding in their parents getting in a few extra steps on the fitness tracker as well. Best of all, they spent nearly an hour in the "nature walk," a small nook where they could toss rocks, poke sticks, dig in the sand and pump water down a cascading fall. It was a camp ground right in the middle of suburbia.
Two hours later, it still took some bribery to pull them away. Couple that with a couple of rumbling tummies and a favorite restaurant up the way, it wasn't too difficult, but moments after the meal finished, they were asking for the park again.
Twelve hours later the Big and I returned as a sort of last day of summer soiree, where he spent hours speed racing his way around a track big enough for a six year old to feel like an Olympian and small enough for a mom to feel secure while she lounged in the sun nearby. A tear escaped my eye as I marveled at what the summer had brought and the joy that was this park. So much laughter. So much sunshine. So much joy.
Thank you, Overland Park, for bringing us this little gem. And friends, let's meet at Roe Park soon, shall we?
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