4 : More Steps Forward
Sometime around eleven o’clock that morning, Oxbear and I signed another paper on the pending contract on our home of nine-plus years. If everything went according to plan, we would no longer own the little house on the little hill come August 30th.
Our realtor offered some closing advice before we parted ways for the weekend, remembering the mad dash to finish painting the house back in June. “Well, once you get into the next place, you might want to take your time. Collette is a professional painter now, so you might want to get that done before you move in the furniture.”
I probably groaned a little. “I may never pick up a brush again.”
At least the realtor got a good laugh out of that one.
An hour later, we were back home with a sack of Wendy’s, just the two of us. Oxbear installed new smoke detectors, since they were all about to expire in five days.
And I began the little monster job of sorting through 400+ Cardinals tickets for school’s “Night at the Ballpark”. It was sort of like playing Tetris.
Meanwhile, Puck spent the whole afternoon at Mickey’s 10th birthday party, which included pizza and a visit to The Chocolate Company.
“Wanna come, Mom?” he teased me earlier.
I almost accepted the invitation.
When we picked him up at three o’clock, he brought out a box of Puck-crafted chocolate treats, which didn’t last long. His face and shirt were equally covered with chocolate. And he seemed satisfied with the results of the day.
“We had a chocolate fight,” he explained.
The rest of my afternoon was spent on the computer in the Silverspoon’s dining room. It took some effort to figure out how to group grades and boys and girls and special requests and staff and new families and whatever other criteria came up, into one big happy puzzle. I now have a new appreciation for the man and wife team who hand-scheduled MLB’s season every year for so long. It’s a fascinating job. I also now understand why I was thanked so profusely for taking on the job in the first place, and may or may not have been labeled a “sucker” for doing it.
As night drained on, I wrapped up the tickets in one room with a little bit of my faithful sidekick – chocolate – listening to Gloria’s John-Lennox/Richard-Dawkins debate in the kitchen. Good stuff.