Happy 79th, Happy 31st
During the sermon that morning, Puck heard a line that specifically caught his interest, and maybe potentially ruffled his feathers, something to the effect of – How do we know we inherited Adam’s sin? Because we all die. So Puck, always looking for an opportunity to point out how Eve sinned first, whispered in my ear, “Eve did it! That represents YOU!”
The rain around here has been ridiculous lately. Although it sounds like records are being broken all over the world for rainfall this year. Not sure what’s up, but the downpours have been intense, and lengthy.
When we returned to the Big House between Noah-worthy waves, Puck turned sour when he found out he couldn’t yet have a session on the iPad to Minecraft. Eventually I found him writing a sign on cardboard, which he left on the kitchen floor for Oxbear’s attention:
“I’m going to go to slep if I can’t play the ipad.”
Considering his attitude, a nap might have been helpful.
Another storm hit after Dad and Rose drove out to Florissant where Grandma was ready for pick-up. Half of us watched from the porch off and on as another torrential downpour flooded the lawns and streets. A few rumbles of thunder here and there.
As the evening arrived, between dinner and gifts, the usual amount of family banter took place around the table and then the living room. Francis received the brunt of the heckling, albeit absent, due to his most recent escapades down by the Mississippi River. Then he called from work and asked Mom to tell everyone that he loved them. What a stinker.
Gifts were given. Shirts and ginger candy for Oxbear, a cookbook for “dump dinners” (that one was from Grandma). And in addition to Grandma’s night at the ballpark last month, she was handed a paper sack of “rum rolls”, since the only Italian bakery open in The Hill on Sunday was out of cannolis by ten o’clock.
Cakes were cut. Oxbear had chosen tiramisu and chocolate mousse. Next week Rose’s birthday would be tacked on to the Father’s Day celebration. June is always the birthday month explosion.
Yet one more rain storm as the evening concluded. So I guess it shouldn’t have been an enormous surprise when we got home where this time a post-birthday present waited for Oxbear: flooded basement. He gets all the good stuff.