Hoocher, the Senator and the Governor have departed the city to resume their bucolic life at the Outpost. In their wake, the Green Goddess and I have quiet, which is not all it’s cracked up to be. Those kids and dog were great to have around the house.
Auntie E had the boys from afternoon Saturday through most of our dinner party of five couples that evening. Good ‘ol auntie took them to a water park, playground and for four hours of playtime with cousins J and M. While the boys were away, Hoocher drew affection to himself from our dinner guests. Exile to a bedroom had been planned, but the pup’s aristocratic politeness earned him freedom of the house. His only problem was ordering the roster of guests in line to pet him.
While the Green Goddess was cooking up roulade of lamb, stuffed with herbs, Hoocher decided his role would be that of supervisory chef. He posted himself in front of the kitchen sink and next to the stove. He was in the way, and, like a 300-pound linebacker, could not be moved.
Auntie E brought the boys home about dessert time. The Governor was wiped out and living up to his reputation for grumpy. The Senator, old enough to have additional endurance, meanwhile, lived up to his nickname. He worked the crowd in a way that might have changed the election results, if Kerry could have done as well. The boys slept until 9:30 a.m. Sunday. Hey, mom, nothing to it—if you have the knack. (Discount it, if they tell you their grape juice treat at bedtime came out of a corked bottle.)
Sunday included a trip to Target for two action figures and, oh, why not, a pair of referee’s whistles. The boys enjoyed tooting a whistle at our house so much that we thought it only fair they have one each to take home and serenade the Chairman and VP. How thoughtful, we are. No?
The Senator also worked hard on his scooter skills and extended the frontier of his exploration from our house, traveling down the sidewalk across the street. He wouldn’t wear a jacket, because “I never get cold.” It was all we could do to get him to put on socks. It won’t be long that he’ll want to be going around the block by himself. Next thing you know, it’ll be away to graduate school instead of just around the corner.
Posted by Professor at November 7, 2004 11:28 PM