Mother's Day +I never told you about Mother's Day.
“HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY!” Eli 8.9 shouted, coming into our bedroom with a tray of nicely toasted waffles, sliced strawberries, and orange juice.
It was 6:50. In the morning.
I was really tired, because I'm always really tired when I wake up, but it's impossible to be grumpy when Mount Enthusiasm roars into the room, as he does on every weekend morning between 6:50-7:00 a.m. And over the years, I've somehow adapted. English Premier League soccer comes on at 7:00 a.m. during the season, or there might be a new episode of Phineas & Ferb, or a new episode of Clone Wars from the night before. In short, fun shit is happening, and I don't want to miss any of it.
Well, on Saturday, anyway. On Sunday, there's not as much, but there was this spiffy Mother's Day holiday to enjoy. Eli made Gloria a necklace with beads and a bottle cap (bizarrely, bottle cap necklaces are apparently popular now—you put a little picture in the bottlecap), and he made her a very nice card.
“I can't wait to go ice skating,” Eli said as we were sitting downstairs in the living room. The new weekend tradition is for Gloria to take Eli ice skating on Sundays. “It's going to be great! We can skate for two hours and maybe stay long enough to play broomball. And we can go by the pro shop and look at equipment, and get my skates sharpened.” This pro-skating soliloquy went on for a while, then he paused. “But we don't have to go skating, Mom,” he said. “After all, it's YOUR day.”
Gloria burst out laughing.
We braved the holiday gauntlet to have brunch with my Mom. then Gloria and Eli skated for three hours, and Eli played broomball. A good time was had by all, including me, because I read and took a nap on the couch.
Eli has developed a curious affection for The Police's “Message In a Bottle,” although it's an analytical kind of affection. You may remember that he previously suggested “that guy should just build a boat,” and when he heard the song on Friday, he bobbed his head to the beat, then said, “That is a very unreliable way to send a message.”
We were watching the last few minutes of pomp before the running of the Preakness on Saturday, and they introduced a U.S. Naval Academy choir to sing something or other. Eli was only half listening, and he said “U.S. Nasal Academy? Do they have a college just to study noses?”
Of course they do. Otherwise, where would they be studied?
Gloria and I went out on Saturday evening for our wedding anniversary. When we came home, Eli handed us a bead chain he made with this note:
Whose son is this--Ben Ormand's?
It totally blew my mind. I'm not exaggerating when I say that I think I'm the luckiest father in the world.