Moving Fast

Found myself unconsciously humming the Imperial March as I waited in the car for the boys to come out of the house. It was another cool morning in September, enough to wear a sweater.

Puck left Sunday School with a banana Tootsie Pop in his shirt pocket for reciting a Bible verse.

After the service and monthly luncheon – where I probably ate too many cookies – Puck walked out to join me in the car, blood stains on his blue plaid shirt.

“Bit your tongue?”

“Yup.”

“How?”

“Tootsie Pop.”

The domestic dangers that lurk.

While El Oso and Puck enjoyed another birthday party at SkyZone, the infamous room of trampolines where El Oso first busted his knee seven and a half years ago – a recovery that required crutches and still flairs up from time to time – I joined most of the family for a drive to Rally’s in the Joy Bus. As the Cardinals blew through the Brewers in Milwaukee.

“Here comes the kidney stone creator,” said Carrie-Bri, passing a large soda back to Rose in the van.

“Gotta have company,” Rose grinned.

We sat around the picnic table at Blanchette Park, my first experience with Rally’s: seasoned fries and mozzarella sticks. Rose and Francis threw some of these seasoned fries to the squirrels, who nibbled furiously at the deep-fried goodness. Their healthier cousin ran a large green walnut right up the 90-degree incline of a tall sycamore to lunch on an outpost. But I think the fries were the favorite snack in the end.

Puck came back from a solid hour of bouncing on trampolines followed by pizza and cake. I couldn’t do it. Neither did El Oso.