A Frances Birthday, Australian Champs, & Valentines for Pit Bulls
Wednesday, February 15, 2006
[6:58am] Frances’ 11th birthday! The big guy was getting sweeter and bigger by the day. They could always tell by the size of his hands that he would be a big guy – he had almost chubby paws, the dear boy. And with his front tooth still not having quite fallen out, he continued to carry the jack ‘o lantern effect. And he would, of course, have balloons on his bed (which equivocated to the mat on Carrie’s floor) and the birthday plate for the big occasion.
What was more, his birthday had fallen, yes, during the Olympics, which was always a very neat thing. Collette had not intentionally planned it at the time, but as the 2004 Athens Games had fallen during her wedding, she could not be more pleased in retrospect. As Carrie-Bri had so aptly mentioned at the dinner table the night before:
“Yeah, she spent more time watching the Olympics than she did planning for the wedding.”
Of course, to a younger guy, what was more important than having one’s birthday during the Olympics, was having one’s birthday on a choir day. There could possibly be an extra piece of candy or even the likelihood of having “Happy Birthday” sung aloud by the entire choir (which was always a mock-embarrassment, actually thoroughly enjoyed by the youngsters).
Meanwhile, Carrie had done well by only lamenting Valentine’s Day once that year as they waited in the Wal-Mart check-out.
“Valentine’s Day really is a dumb holiday,” she said. “Even if I did have a guy, I wouldn’t make such a big deal out of it. I only ever gave out two valentines. One to my B.B.B.F. and the other to the pit bull, but they put him down before I could give it to him.”
Collette well remembered the vicious pit bull who used to wander the neighborhood attempting to attack smaller dogs. For a number of weeks the kids were warned by Mom and Dad not to go outside alone. And they typically stayed by the trees in case he should come charging around the corner, so they could swing up to the branches speedily if necessary. Carrie even kept a package of graham crackers strung from one of the limbs in case bait was needed to divert the dog’s attention once the children were safely hanging from the branches. And yet Carrie somehow had a soft spot for this brown canine and had carefully made him his own valentine in appreciation for his dog-ness. But, yes, sadly, his owner had him sent to doggy heaven before the card could be delivered, due to his unpredictable attacks on the neighborhood.
Amazingly that morning, the United States took its first bronze medal in men’s freestyle skiing due to Australia taking the gold – unbelievable. And it seemed likely that Germany was well on its way to surpassing its lingering tie with the Americans in luge and speed skating.
Meanwhile, Carrie informed everyone that Louis Tecumseh had decided to have his hair done in rolled dreadlocks. And Carrie and Rose snuggled on the couch while Carrie read more of her leadership class material and Rose turned Carrie’s crown into a mess of braids. Carrie was also charmed with the latest news on Ernest’s away messages, including one that said he had returned from his weekend, being chased out of Chicago by a mob of angry Latvians (completely untrue, no doubt), and secondly, his away message the previous evening:
“Goodnight moon… goodnight brush… goodnight mush. And goodnight to the old lady whispering hush.”
Ingenious young fellow.
“Go to sleep, ye ragamuffins, for dawn is at hand.”
– Petronuis addressing the mob following the burning of Rome (Quo Vadis)