Ch. 190; Vol. 10

At 10:22PM Monday night, Rose sent me a text:

“Stinkerbelle is a terrible cat.”

This is an expected statement, and a very ordinary, if not common, and casual, observation. Although no explanation is required as follow-up – insofar as the cat in question is concerned – Rose did enlighten me as to the particular offense to which she referred…

“She stole one of my rings and I finally found it hidden under her toys in the toy basket.”

Typical.

Cold banana yogurt.

Swim plans with the Kirks.

Puck placed one flip-flopped foot on top of Crackers’ silky back…

“Leave her alone, Puck.”

“I conquer her.”

Docile grin.

A drive in the morning, listening to Oldies…

“Mom, play this music every time we go to the pool. This is great music.”

“…Count the headlights on the highway…”

“That’s impossible, Mom.”

“What?”

“To count all the headlights on the highway.”

Ten o’clock.

A mild swimming pool under mild skies in mild weather in O’Fallon.

Two boys – also wearing shirts – tracking a lazy river, water slide, and other water-based paraphernalia [a few elbows to the guts] while their moms talked about how they weren’t really into women’s social group events. We were practically congratulating each other on this feat of life. In the end, however, I beat out Misty-Hanna, who had agreed to attend “South Pacific” at the Muny with twenty other church ladies, Thursday night, much to the delight of her very social husband…

“But don’t make a big deal out of it,” she told him. “Or I won’t go.”

No thank you…

Goldfish crackers break at eleven.

Back in a much hotter pool. Hoping Puck’s spray-on sunblock was still moderately effective. The best I could do was dangle legs in the water, having loaned my black suit to Rose for the Caribbean in the winter, which would now take a business trip to San Diego the following week.

Puck packed in his room with Crackers for Quiet Hour.

Joe IM’d me; had to share the exciting news that one of his moles just fell off…

He also asked why his muscles were twitching so much.

I prescribed 1/8th teaspoon of salt.

Brothers.

We needed another baseball game. What’s an honest-to-goodness summer without one, or four or ten?

“Baseball really is a genius game,” I noted sometime around the 5th inning.

After a pause, The Bear answered me…

“I don’t know… I kind of like dominoes…”

My life with The Bear.