There’s a varsity golf tournament that happened today on the far side of our state, and do you think that I have any idea how it went?
No. No, I do not. It’s because someone’s phone died. Apparently it never occurred to the boy that when his mother said, “And make sure you charge your phone in the hotel, so you can keep me posted,” that I actually meant business. Honestly, I don’t pay for that cell phone for the boy’s convenience; I pay for it so that I can talk to him when I need to talk to him, and so that he can text me things like… oh, I don’t know… A STINKING GOLF SCORE FROM HIS FIRST HIGH SCHOOL TOURNAMENT!!!
Supposedly, the boys golfed all day today, but I wouldn’t know, because NO CONTACT. They’re staying in a hotel again tonight (which translates into EVERYONE’S SWIMMING IN THE POOL HERE, AFTER WE EAT ENORMOUS CHEESEBURGERS AND FRIES, EVEN THOUGH MOTHERS HAVE BEEN SAYING SINCE THE DAWN OF TIME THAT KIDS SHOULDN’T SWIM AFTER A MEAL, AND THEN NONE OF US ARE ACTUALLY GOING TO SLEEP TONIGHT, BECAUSE WE’RE TURNING THIS HOTEL INTO A FRAT HOUSE), and then they’re golfing all day again tomorrow.
I imagine this is exactly how Jordan Spieth’s mother felt when he was fifteen and neglected to charge his cell phone, as she paced her house and mumbled to her husband forty-eleven times, “I just wish I knew how he did!”
I’m just crossing my fingers that later tonight, the boy needs his phone for a video game or the built-in camera, and that he says to himself, “Hey! I should probably plug this thing into the wall, seeing as how it’s deader than a winning mafia hit.”
In other news, we’re wrapping up the tail end of summer vacation here, and we’re about to slap a bright red bow on it. I’m always sad to see summer end, because… well… there’s just something magical about having your days completely unstructured, and knowing that you can really stay in your pajamas for a while, if that’s what you feel like doing. Plus, the boy is home in the middle of the day to haul all your shopping bags from major grocery runs indoors, and I call that a win. We have exhausted ourselves at all the parks this summer, because Thing 2 enjoys a good slide like nobody’s business, but now our parks are overrun with all the wasps, because ‘TIS THE SEASON. Since a wasp fly-by will make us all shriek and dance around like a chicken on crack, we’re beginning to shun the outdoor world, opting for the inside activity of I REALLY DON’T CARE HOW MANY HOURS OF TV YOU WATCH TODAY, JUST SO LONG AS YOU LET ME DRINK THIS CUP OF COFFEE FROM START TO FINISH, WITHOUT NEEDING TO REHEAT IT, BECAUSE I DON’T HAVE THE STRENGTH TO LOOK AT ANYTHING YOU’VE JUST PUT ON THE HARDWOOD FLOOR, UNTIL I’VE DONE MY BIBLE STUDY HOMEWORK AND GOTTEN RIGHT WITH JESUS THIS MORNING.
Another thing that we wrapped up was Enzo’s visit to Small Town, USA. Hubs and I, along with Enzo’s parents, split the cost of his airfare to have him flown out here for the boy’s birthday. He stayed for ten entire days, and I can’t even begin to list everything that those kids did in ten days. They golfed over and over and over together. They went to a water park and a regular pool. They played tennis. They ate dinner together and with good friends at classy, posh little hotspots. They walked downtown for sub sandwiches and wandered through stores, by themselves, and again with friends. They saw three movies at the theater. They hosted a couple of sleepovers at our house, with boys hanging out and staying up all night, twice. They cooked 13,000 eggs for snacks, and are now possibly suffering from high cholesterol. They had air soft wars with friends, they hosted a poker night at our house for a posse of boys, they drove go-carts, they cracked crab legs, and they had a water fight with friends, they played video games until their brains began to leak out of their ears, they slept NOT AT ALL, and they even mowed my yard once.
It will go down in history as the boy’s favorite ten-day stretch of his life.
But this past weekend, we had to drive Enzo back to Bigger Town, USA and put him on a plane. His parents missed him, even though we made an enormous rally to enroll him in high school here with the boy. I even offered to move Thing 2 into the boy’s bedroom, so that Enzo could have his own room and live with us.
The boys golfed like crazy while Enzo was here…
Well, driving fast AND cheeseburgers AND lighting things on fire, especially if said fire results in a mushroom cloud.
After the speed thrill was over, they tried their hand at crawling through a room protected by lasers, exactly like they were James Bond, trying to steal the world’s largest diamond back from a jewel thief.
Hubs and I got to watch their antics on a flat-screen TV while they were in the chamber, and we laughed ourselves silly every time they hit a beam.
Which was… you know… FREQUENTLY. If they have any hopes at all of following in James Bond’s footsteps, they’re going to have to get private lessons for crawling over and under laser beams, so they don’t end up looking like a piece of KFC chicken.
I won’t lie.
I actually cried a little bit when I hugged that Enzo boy goodbye and signed him over to the airline company for his flight as an unattended minor. It was so sad to see him go.
I’m pretty sure that partying like they did is the sign of one fantastic, healthy friendship.
AND!! Well…. my kid has finally powered up his phone. He texted me and Hubs to let us know that he golfed AMAZINGLY WELL today! I may have even screeched a little with some mega-sized excitement when I read all about my little freshman’s scores at this big tournament today!!!! And then I may have already mentally spent the US Open purse that I expect he’ll be winning soon and sharing with his parents.
Y’all have a fantastic weekend.