Cathy in the Wright

Awash in Activity

There’s a park on 42nd Street in Southwest Minneapolis we used to call the Rocket Park, because it had a huge sculpture of what looked like a V2 and in inside of which kids could climb to the top. It’s been gone for years, probably a victim of over sensitivity to playground danger. The wading pool is still there, however, and that’s where we took The Senator and The Governor this afternoon. They played and splashed and spent some time on the adjacent playground, working up an appetite for supper.

They slaked that appetite at Famous Dave’s Barbeque shack in Linden Hills. The Gov. made do with French fries and cornbread. (Mom, if you call the cornbread a muffin, he’ll scarf down what he otherwise wouldn’t touch.) The Senator dove into an order of ribs, fries and corn on the cob. Messy wouldn’t describe him accurately. He had to be cleaned up at the table even before a trip to the washroom to finish the re-sanitization. That kid looked like he had gone bobbing for ribs; his sauced hands could have been on a poster for a chainsaw-massacre movie.

When told his parents would be returning Tuesday, The Senator realized that Monday would be his last night with us. Therefore, he made it clear, we simply had to make another visit to the Cold Stone Creamery or Edina Creamery. The choice was ours, but one or the other. So, to Cold Stone he and I went, while The Gov. preferred to stay home and have The Green Goddess dish up chocolate ice cream for him. The Senator combined mint ice cream with jawbreakers—yeah, arrrgh!

They spent the evening mellowing out on a $1 video of old Superman cartoons and those of a creature called Scaridy Cat—a feline who had lost 8 of his 9 lives and summoned a ghost of a past life, every time he said the number of that life. They went on … and on … and on. I hit a wrong button on the DVD control and returned to the Superman Cartoons, creating anxiety. All was forgiven when I scanned back to the proper place on the disc, but I was warned, “Don’t touch another button on that control!”

As for Hoocher, he walks, he eats and he gets in his 18 hours of naps daily, and that’s about it for him.

Posted by Professor at June 13, 2005 11:07 PM