Sometimes, it Just Happens
Weather like September. When Puck and I found ourselves shivering on a park bench with two sacks of McDonald’s at 11:15, we sort of wished we had worn jeans instead.
We were waiting for Louis, his mama, and baby sister to join us. The invitation had come via text two hours earlier. And because Louis was picking up McDonald’s – as much as my tastebuds hit the brakes – I agreed we should do the same. I’ll take a fish sandwich at least. I can manage a fish sandwich. All the way back to those 1989 days when I was probably first introduced.
Anyway, Puck and Louis had their hour at the park, then another hour or more playing Star Wars on the Xbox back in O’Fallon while baby sister slept upstairs.
Sometimes I still wonder when my whole Midwest-mom life started. Just sort of happens, I guess. Not complaining.
After another round of “war” with the neighbor kids, Puck saddled up in the back seat for a drive into St. Peters. It was time for the midsummer classic, Waino getting the start, Neshek backing him up. I should probably just buy cable and stop relying on my in-laws’ set. But it draws a crowd – chiefly Snicketts females – and this meant another spend-the-night for Puck.
Anyway, on the drive I caught Puck scowling under his Minecraft hat in the rearview mirror.
“What’s up, bubba?”
“Oh, nuffing. Just finking of new weapons for our war to spice fings up.”
Later, from the tree swing in the backyard, he elaborated.
“I have an idea for some slick swords. Probably a dorky name, huh?”
About half an hour later, he had that slick sword. All he had to do was mention “wood” and “sword” to Theodore. Done. He magic-markered the edges orange at the counter in anticipation of the next battle.
So, the game. Gloria made another pizza casserole. Mom and Carrie-Bri walked in with a homemade French silk pie. Then Rose from work. El Oso discussing business and photography with Izzy at the counter. I think Puck turned around to the screen once during a commercial advertising bacon cheeseburgers.
Not the best night for the NL, granted; close. Although Izzy and the girls did manage to solve the possible spitting-of-sunflower-seeds issue for the grounds crew.
“Just give him grass seed to spit instead. Anything that grows.”
“Yeah. All their teeth turn blue from the fertilizer.”
“They slide into home plate, get a mouthful of mushrooms.”
Baseball at its best.