An eventful day

Dear diary,

Yesterday was an eventful day for me. Normally my days go like so: Nothing happens. But yesterday, I awoke early, wrote in my journal, and then I sent a postcard to my mom:

“Dear mom, it looks like it’s gonna be a nice day, so the goose and I will be biking…” (“the goose” is my sweetheart’s pet name) “...so we’ll stop by and see you, if you’re home, either this morning or in the afternoon; just let me know if you’d like this; & if you don’t answer, we won’t bother you.”

Then, after a few minutes, mom postcarded me back:

“I am attending a meeting at 10:00 to decide the future of my next-door neighbor who has dementia; and at 1:00 is my book club; but your sister-in-law Colleen will be waiting here at the house around 10:30, because her car is getting repaired at a shop nearby, and she’s bringing her baby Frank Booth Ray and her little dog Jo-Jo, so you can come and see them all if you like!”

So I answered “Okie dokie!” Then I promptly emptied out a sports-drink bottle, replaced its contents with wine, and we were off to the races. (“Okie dokie” is just a funny way of saying “OK”, which means, in this case, “sounds gr-r-r-r-r-8”, as in “The plan in question sounds gr-r-r-r-r-8!”) (It is unclear whether the word “dokie” means anything by itself — for this reason, I aspire to someday use it in a sentence.) (Also, I should add that the idiom “off to the races” is a prepositional phrase meaning “in or into a process of energetic engagement in some activity.” So the gist of what I’m trying to say is that we wasted no time in biking to mother’s house.)

When we arrived, mom was actually present: she and Colleen were in lawn chairs on the deck, and there was a blanket spread out for the baby; and the dog was pacing around them. The meeting that my mom was supposed to be attending was taking place on the lawn of the neighbor’s estate: it was quite informal, so she (mom) was able to break away from the proceedings occasionally.

My sweetheart and I joined mom and Colleen on the deck; and I immediately began a lengthy and edifying conversation with baby Frank. But Frank doesn’t speak any words, so our talk was more of a monologue than a two-way argument. I asked him if he remembered all the skills that I taught him at our last encounter, such as how to open and close his fist in a graceful manner, and how to perform drum solos by knocking one plastic block against the bottom of a bucket. He didn’t remember a thing. At least that’s what I gathered, for he did not answer. Then I asked him if he has yet learned to crawl or walk, and how much he likes to dance; but he just sat there staring at me in silence. So I informed him that, in his present condition, he should not expect to be allowed to serve in the U.S. military. The armed forces have very little need for new recruits who cannot move.

Then poor little baby Frank started to cry, so we decided to place him in his stroller and walk to the park. We predicted that a change of scene would cure his foul mood, and that the motion of travel might even lure him to sleep. It turns out that we were right on all counts; for, as soon as we began to move, Frank’s whimpering ceased and he entered slumberland: it was as if the LORD OF ALL WORLDS had caused an analgesic spell to descend upon him.

Then, when we arrived back at the house, my mom’s meeting had concluded; so she was now free to do as she pleased. Thus she said, “Are you guys hungry? I could make us luncheon — I have this really good hamburger meat that I could make.” And we all said, “We’re vegetarians, but that idea sounds tasty, therefore let’s feast!” So, before we could say Jack Robinson, mom was serving up spiced beef patties on fresh buns topped with cheese and onions. They were delicious, and we all said “Thank you so much!”

& after the meal was finished, mom stood up & declared “The secret to the success of these burgers that you’ve eaten, which you testified were flavorful, even delectable, is that I cooked them medium-rare.”

That’s what happened yesterday. It was a truly eventful day, for me.