Happy Birthday, Ole Boy
Indistinguishable singing of a shouting nature drifted down the hall from Linnea-Irish’s room where she and a friend were supposed to be studying algebra together. Francis glared. Another burst of shout-singing.
Francis, this now twenty year-old birthday boy, just shook his head. “Why?”
“I want to teach my kids how to sing the alphabet backwards,” Joe had announced. “Jaya won’t let me do it though. So in Sunday School when they all sing the alphabet together, my kids will be like, ‘Z, Y, X, W, Z, Q, P!’”
“In Sunday School?”
Things had calmed down a little by this point. Earlier, the chaos was elevated when Joe, Francis, and Puck punched a blue balloon around the living room in a huddle of almost certain trouble. In a sort of slow-motion moment when Francis punched that balloon square in the jaw – look of pure destruction written all the way through the eyebrows – straight across the room…
CRASH!
SMASH!
Mom’s kerosene lamp sustained permanent damage. The boys spent awhile sweeping and vacuuming glass splinters before lunch, featuring one of Francis’ favorite dishes – “buttered noodles”.
In the wake of potential snowstorm hazards, there wasn’t much to do out and about. So Francis and Puck put their collective brains together – Carrie supervising – and tackled the mini Japanese burgers in a box. They sampled their hard work, more impressed with the cola than anything else.
Then before Francis napped on the living room floor by the fire, he had Puck sit on his back while he did push-ups.
“Wow, Francis. You’re so strong on your birthday,” Carrie patronized.
“Everybody watch!” Francis demanded.
“His arms are shaking,” Puck explained as Francis held the pose. “He’s not that strong.”
And while Francis snoozed, we listened to steel drums, Puck burned off some energy in a wild set of dances that could only be interpreted as “Charlie Chaplin Salsa”, Carrie ordered pizzas, and argued extensively with Rose over whether Scarlet ate a carrot or a radish in “Gone with the Wind”.
Domino’s (stuffed bacon-cheese crust), glowing fire in the stove, “I Love Lucy” in Hollywood, ice rattling on the street.
Halfway through February.
Five weeks till spring.
Four days till pitchers and catchers report.