Weekends are sacred even though there are errands to run and housework chores to do.

Weekends are sacred despite gymnastic practices, Taekwondo lessons, religious education and Chinese school.

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Weekends are sacred because we didn’t realize how much fun it is to fly a kite.

Now we know.

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Weekends are sacred because we ended the perfect day with a broken kite and a kite gone missing after it broke away and flew off into the clouds.

We are going to get more.

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Weekends are sacred even though sometimes daddy is flying out to yet another foreign country on Saturdays or coming home on Sundays.

Weekends are sacred exactly because he travels so much that we need to use our weekends wisely, not squandering.

Weekends are sacred even though sometimes mommy has to fly out on Sunday night (or the night of Memorial Day) to be in another city by a certain time for some meeting that she would rather not be part of because she starts missing you when she is printing out her boarding pass.

Weekends are sacred even though because the city we live in only has two seasons: Winter and Construction.

Weekends are sacred because we only have one month of spring and one month of fall that are ripe to make perfect days with.

Weekends are sacred because the reward of pedaling uphills inside the woods of Morten Arboretum is a series of downhill turns with the sound of the wind and the clack clack clack of the coasting bicycle wheels accompanied by your screaming

WWWeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee

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Weekends are sacred because our tree is just big enough now to support a hammock.

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Weekends are sacred because we are a family of lazy souls living a packed life.

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Weekends are sacred because when it comes down to it what we really want to do, after all this…

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Is nothing at all.

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Nothing is better than doing nothing.

Weekends are sacred.

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