Sweet return

 

Summer rolls on and kids continue to grow. A few of the elders I grew up with feigned  shock at the children's rate of growth and exclaimed, "give them whisky and cigars!" as if stunting our growth would keep them young.  Of course, we knew it was a joke.

This one, a day away from twelve, is only an inch and change shorter than me, when I can stack my vertabrae as tall as possible. Although he can reach the pedals, he insists that he doesn't want to learn to drive. It might be my constant commentary while negotiating the freeway. Expletives required. 

On our daily trips to the math tutoring, he reclines the passenger seat and is asleep before we hit the main road. He said, "I trust you to get us there in one piece, Nana." 

Next week will be our last summer get together and I want to plan some outrages to make the memories stick. 




Aside from the usual faked feline disdain, a box was waiting for me. Pandora was a piker! 

Almost ten pounds of some of the most exquisite vintage cloth. Envision a butler in a high button jacket with a white cloth draped over one arm as he snapped his fingers to summon a squadron of lackeys to clear a table.

I have his magic cloth!