Weston is passionate about brooms.
Once she sees one, she picks it up, and carries it to us, nudging us not-so-gently to pick up the end and run around with her, as she keeps a hold of the bristles. She LOVES this, and Rod can spend hours playing with her and swinging her around.
When she started losing her baby teeth, we thought we broke one of her molers off by playing this game. Blood was dripping out of her mouth, her tooth was hanging and we were all, “Woohhhhhh, what?” But no, she just wanted to play more and her new tooth is just fine.
Our neighbors must think we’re quite weird, running around the garden with a broom and a puppy attached to the end. I couldn’t care less. Her passion, joy, enthusiasm and exuberance for this game is fantastic. It makes us laugh, and I swear makes her smile.
It teaches me that it’s so important to be silly, to find the little things in life that make you giggle, and to pursue them with utmost abandon. This little broom game reminds me to not care what others may think, and to aspire to be caught doing the things I love. That joy and silliness are catching just as much as negativity, insecurity and pettiness. I’ve started singing out-loud during long runs, writing more, and popping into my local for a stolen wine alone as I loved doing in London.
I’d much rather be caught running around the garden laughing with a puppy and a broom, or sitting alone in a pub with a lovely chardonnay reading a book, than caught taking care of any of the endless to-do’s in life. She’s a wise one that Weston.