Like when Julie and Luke strolled their son to the park...left him in the stroller...and yelled, "Look, Caleb!" from the top of the climbing wall.
Or when we went to the nearly empty neighborhood swimming pool. Less than 5 listless adults lolled in the sun. Julie and I and Caleb paddled in the shallows. Then three lively little girls bounced into the water, their moms close behind. A whistle blows. "Adult swim!" the lifeguards declared. And still, there were only a couple adults hugging the walls...that's ironic. I wonder if they still call for adult swim early in the morning before people arrive?
Another irony is when my adult children chew me out when they are trying to call me and I'm not picking up. "I could have an emergency, be dead on the highway, and you wouldn't even know it," they babble on the voicemail. Yet when I call them, they may as well leave an honest message.
"This is Julie. You can leave a message, but I won't return it because I left my cell phone in my purse in the other car."
Luke could accurately say, "This is Luke. Leave a message if you want, but I've allowed my cell to run out of battery. I may get around to checking messages next Wednesday."