“Yeah, honey, that’s okay. Are you okay if I work on this mess?”
“Sure! Then I can have the kitchen to myself.”
She asked a couple questions, pulled out the canisters and remembered to keep the dry ingredients separate from the wet.
“How much flour should I add?”
I looked up from my laptop, “You probably want it to be about like pancake batter.”
“How much vanilla?”
“It’s a small cake. Let’s go with half a teaspoon.”
Then she pulled out the ingredients for the best part – the frosting.
“Can you reach the sprinkles and food coloring for me, please?”
He Googles golf swings, how to tie the leader to the line on his fly rod, and spicy barbecue sauce recipes.
Once he researches golf swings, he hits into the park and walks to fetch the balls, all the while swinging his driver.
She particularly likes it when he’s at the park, because then she has the house to herself.
Sometimes he talks her into hitting golf balls.
She talks him into trying the cake.*
She is an introvert.
She likes time to herself to sit in a camp chair, spit sunflower seed shells and contemplate the colors for the next friendship bracelet she’ll be making.
He is an extrovert.
He likes company when he walks to the park to retrieve golf balls, so he often talks me into tagging along. He’ll ask me what he should do differently with his swing. I remind him that I know nothing about golf, but that his natural swing is what works best for him.
The sign reads: “Kitty treats! Two for 50 cents! Fresh water or milk. Open noon to five.”
She invites me to dine at the Kitty Restaurant.
She asks if I’d like to start off with a drink. I say, “Water would be nice.”
She tells me that today’s special is tuna and then she says, “This really is more of a restaurant for cats.”
We decide that next time I may want to bring Nina.
He asks me if he ought to connect his net to the loop on the back of his new fishing vest.
I say, “I don’t have a clue other than how will you disconnect it fast enough when the big one is on the line. Why don’t you Google it.”
Ten minutes later he says, “Hey, I know what to do. I’ll attach a carabiner to the net, hook it to the vest, and unhook it when I get to the fishing spot.”
He says, “Mom, did you know Bubba Watson hit a 363 yard fade?”
“No, I didn’t know that. Let me guess…. internet?”
He grins and Googles Rory McIlroy.
Her scrapbook of Twilite pictures shows the progression of her art. She also has a journal for solving mysteries, a folder full of correspondence from her best friend, and a file labeled, Project Ideas.
To this day, I’ve not heard either one of them say, “I’m bored.”
*The cake wasn’t tasty, but that’s not the point.