She looked to be in her late 60's, maybe early 70's. He looked 10 or more years younger. Maybe. I couldn't decide what kind of relationship they had. Were they a married couple? Was he her care giver? Relatives? I don't know. What fascinated me was that they both had books and were independently reading between courses.
At first I wondered why they would bother sharing a nice dinner if they weren't going to also share conversation. But then it occurred to me that if they're both retired and spend all their days together anyway, they're probably all talked out. They both enjoy reading. They both enjoy good food. They're not eating alone. So what's the harm? Still though, I was glad to be eating with my friend and partner and having interesting and funny discussion.
Earlier yesterday afternoon I picked my grandson, Gabe, up from preschool because Beautiful's pre-natal exam went late. Over the last couple weeks, every time Gabe's daddy has picked him up from school, Gabe has asked for a milkshake. Daddy doesn't give in to junk food often, so the answer has been no. Since yesterday was a special day with Grammy, Daddy gave the go ahead for us to indulge in a special milkshake treat.
Gabe emphatically chose strawberry. Over the whole of the 30 minute drive back to my house, Gabe kept repeating over and over, "This is delicious!" It tickled me : ) He also kept referring to it as a smoothie. A very new-millennium moniker.
When Beautiful came to take Gabe home she reminded him to thank Grammy for the goody. He started but got stuck between the words 'smoothie' and 'milkshake.' What came out of his mouth was, "Grammy, thank you for the smoothcake!"
I would buy that little boy a smoothcake every day of the week just to see his happy little smile : )
Youngest is in track at the junior high. He tried out for shot put, discus and low hurdles. He was chosen to do the field events, but not the running event. It is, however, open to kids even if they weren't formally chosen--which is really kinda cool so the kids can try whatever they want and not be told they can't. I think that's how it should be in junior high.
Since he's allowed to run hurdles if he wants to, he put his name on the list for tomorrow's meet. The major problem is that he hasn't practiced the hurdles for 2 weeks!
This morning, with puffed up chest and his funny false bravado, he told me, "Yep, I'm pretty sure I'm going to be the Hurdle King." I mentioned the lack of practice. He didn't think that would be an issue. So I let it go, tried to say something encouraging while hoping he doesn't fall flat on his face. Literally.
This evening he came to me and said, "So . . . I'm a little worried about the hurdles tomorrow."
"Oh?" I asked, "what happened to Hurdle King?"
"Turns out," he told me, "I haven't practiced in two weeks. It might not go so well tomorrow."
"That's okay," I reassured him, "I won't tell anyone you're my son."