Wood Chips and Small Hands

So I totally forgot this piece existed...I wrote it for a class at some point. It's fictitious but based on memories I have from itty-bitty babyhood, back when my dad was still in the military and we owned a house with a playground at the end of the street. This was also one of the first pieces I wrote in college that I had a prof look at and say: "this is publishable" which meant a lot. Enjoy a piece from the archive that is my computer, and some pictures of itty bitty Spangler babies...also from the archive.

Pink ruffles on a sundress flutter through the air. The hot air ballooned under the skirt for a moment, holding the little girl in the air. Then she fell, her feet hitting the wood chips under the play set. She lost her balance and fell forward, splinters poking into her knees and piercing the heels of her hand. She grimaced and stood up. Another girl called to her from the top of the playground, drawing her up to the slide. She climbed the metal play set, careful not to burn herself on the dark metal heating up in the summer sunshine. She slips on one of her journeys up the stairs, catching herself with her hands. Her palms burn and fear fills her for a moment with the ground and metal so close to her face. But then with determination she stands herself back up and keeps going, a little more carefully this time. The deep rumblings of adult conversation didn’t disturb her play, didn’t distract her in her single-minded pursuit. Her giggles floated high in the hot hazy air as she climbed and fell once more. The only respite to be had from the stagnant heat waves. The cool breeze kissed her face every time she flew, until the heat smacked her once more. A happy smile alternated with a determined furrow of concentration as she continued in her goal.

Then one time, big hands caught her. She was swooped up by strong arms and thrown back into the air. A green and brown hat stared up at her, covering a grey uniform and boots. Camouflage and gear stood out against the pink, white, and blue of her play clothes. She screamed and kicked in the air, delighting in the feeling of terror. Then she was caught and she laughed, her giggles hitting his face like a fresh breeze. He pulled her close as she climbed up Daddy Mountain. Her knees scraped against the bare Velcro on his uniform, and her feet dug into his black leather belt. She smiled victoriously as she made it onto his shoulders and threw up her hands victoriously. She was on top now, and she was falling no more.