“Let’s be spontaneous,” I said last weekend.

As the words tumbled out of me, I knew how it was very unlike me. I never was the one to suggest spontaneity. I rarely if ever was the one to pull someone else by hand to “let me show you something”. I don’t shout in glee from speed, with air blowing through my messy hair.

But there it was. A momentary glimpse past my usual reserve. A sudden desire for temporary ecstasy. In pursuit of delight.

We got there, but it was closed. So no slides.

Earlier, we walked past a swing. I did not mention my hesitation on getting on—not wanting in the spotlight, but also desiring to swing freely through the air. Faster, higher! Is that what would go through my mind? Push me!

Instead, I scampered up to the destination of the slides and scampered back down.

We made it! I said in delight.