No Special Reason
So it just sort of felt like the right kind of day to present Carrie-Bri with a stack of gifts for no documented reason. Maybe throw in a little cake too. And because no one could really think of what to have for dinner, Mom asked me to make two lasagnas, which I prepared Saturday night. As much as I hate to cook – and the results usually reflect it – I don’t mind at least watching the stove process involved in creating lasagna. A pan of bubbling lava, and a pot of boiling geyser. Iceland in motion.
I guess because it was a Sunday afternoon, we sort of naturally migrated to the last stack of home video DVDs Carrie had compiled. Over a few large bags of chips. Goofy kids. Make-shift ziplines behind the English house, improvised didgeridoos out of PVC pipe… they actually worked really, really well…
But we broke television to walk around the yard. It was mild. The bunnies needed romping. And apparently Puck needed a war to fight between the boys and the girls. Francis didn’t need pressing. His Nerf was already cranked and ready to fire. Including a couple of missiles at my face. I know he did that on purpose.
Carrie thanked me for the “random” gift of a 100% Pure gift certificate earlier in the morning. And of course Grandma thought that presents would also be appropriate. Earlier in the morning, Puck had pondered what to do for his Sun…
“I would like to get her another bunny, Mom.”
“Well, I don’t think…”
“Her fondest wish is to get another bunny, Mom,” he seriously insisted. “And she’ll be grateful for what she gets.”
A Kindle was the big one for the afternoon though. Well, small, really. If Plato or Aristotle could hold the entire library of the world in one hand… I think they would have just fallen over. I even still find it fascinating myself. Silver bunny-based jewelry from Grandma, Jeeves & Wooster reads… A violet laser pointer.
It pleased the boys to whip up a fire in the yard after dark. Francis grabbed his green laser, Joe his red, and joined Carrie in an original laser show in the smoke of a bonfire ablaze with dilapidated children’s picnic table. I sat wrapped in blankets with Rose and Linnea-Irish, who was recovering well from the strep.
Back inside, Grandma had the ice cream from Baskin Robbins. Including a carton of old time bubble gum.
“Now there’s a limited amount of bubble gum because I reserved it,” Carrie announced.
“I want some.”
“Me too.”
“I do too.”
“Mom! Only give them two tablespoons apiece!”