That Kind of Day
A Flash Memoir

“Yeah, it’s gonna be a relaxing day for you, Danielle.  No boys around.  Just Grandma and the girls, huh?” Dad said.

I smiled, but it was small.  “Yeah,” I replied.  I wanted to go four-wheeling in the Wisconsin backwoods too, but I didn’t say anything.  I knew I couldn’t go.  I had asked the night before but Dad thought that I’d have more fun with Grandma.

Grandma turned to me with a smile.  “That’s right.  We’re going to lounge around and make some chocolate chip cookies.”

The trample of feet was soon heard and it was not long before my brothers rowdily entered the room, grins plastered across their faces.

“All set?” Dad asked.  They nodded.  “Well, Wade, why don’t you go see if Grandpa needs any help loadin’ up the four-wheelers?  Alex, go get whatever sodas you guys want today and go pack ‘em in the cooler.”  And then they were off again, the excitement of their forthcoming adventure evident in their vivacity.

“Well, alright, Danielle.  You and Megan enjoy your day with Grandma,” Dad said.

“Oh, we will,” Grandma beamed, “Won’t we?”

Dad stepped out into the sunlight, and soon, it was just us ladies and the strewn-about cookie ingredients.

Dad was right about our girls’ day—it was relaxing.  The house was void of bickering and trampling and the strange melodies that Grandpa sang whenever he had the urge.  No PBS television shows, no bantering about politics, no reverberations from the engine of a four-wheeler.  It was serene.

But it was not the kind of day for serenity.  It was the kind of day that you built a fort from fallen birch trees or caught toads and snakes in the woods.  The kind of day that you four-wheeled for hours into the wilderness and swam in secluded ponds.  The kind of day that rejects serenity and beckons for the commotion of adventure.

But those were the type of things that boys did.

I let out a sigh.  The soft mess of flour and sugar and butter pressed up between my fingers as I kneaded the cookie dough.  A breeze whisked across my skin and my gaze drifted to where the sun’s rays illuminated the room.  Alas, it was the kind of day that would have to be watched from a window. 

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