Simple joys in life

Today I thought I would think about the simple joys in life. Those once upon a time I had it in the palm of my hand moments. The simple pleasures of making paper boats and watching them float away in glory. Or the saturated afternoons, locked in a room reading the newly minted books, my father would buy for me. The oversized raincoats and strappy boots I would don to hopscotch around in muddy puddles. Or the tadpoles I would chase with the blunt end of a twig. I would think of how my humpty dumpty, happy child of a cousin, would blow the whistle every time I dozed off with my homework untouched, in a garden chair. Of how I loved wearing mismatched long socks in winters, put my feet up and cozy into the crumpled pages of my latest story. Sometimes I would read, sometimes I would write, sometimes I would sketch. The sky was still infinite, the horizons unscathed. I would listen to recitals of the impending storm or play dumb charades with my mother. Today I thought I would deviate from the mathematics of it all. Today I felt, I wouldn't calculate in anticipation.