I’m writing to you from the front seat of a BoltBus headed up I95 to NYC, with 3B asleep on my lap. This means that I’m typing with my right arm hooked over his head like the St. Louis arch. Let’s see how long my rotator cuff lasts.
Although he didn’t want to go while we were separating from Mama and Jewel, 3B is now excited to get to the Big, Big City, which is what we call NYC, after a Curious George story that takes place there. As his vocabulary expands, we’ll introduce him to other names for it…Big Apple, City That Never Sleeps, Den of Iniquity.
Speaking of Mama and Jewel, they’re kicking off their weekend alone together by babysitting our neighbor’s daughter while she goes off to celebrate her birthday. Not exactly how I envisioned the weekend going for them, but whattya gonna do?
When I was setting up this weekend with Uncles D and FunkDaddie, I asked Mama if she wanted to come along. She said nice things about being with us and the family being together and so forth and left it up to me.
I reminded her that it was a trip to hang with my childhood buddies, which means we’ll likely rehash every moment of 9th grade until the wee hours of the morning, and see Iron Man 2. After that, we’re planning to fulfill Uncle FunkDaddie’s childhood aspirations and go to the Natural History Museum to see dinosaurs, elephants, and so forth.
Her reply: Have a nice time.
Unfortunately, even after checking my work calendar, 3B’s school calendar, our family calendar, Mama’s calendar and the Mayan calendar (to ensure we got this in before the end of time), I still managed to schedule this for Mother’s Day weekend, which means that Mama will be without us for 75% of her day.
Her reply: No, no, that’s fine. You go and have a good time.
…And anybody who’s had a mother knows what that means. Although our couch is comfortable, I welcome any of your suggestions to make this up to Mama that I can deliver on before we return.
I’m working to make cancer history. Will you help me?