An Un-humdrum Day

I remembered to take a photo at the creek the first day daughter Lise walked with us. I’m not good at selfies, so I was pleasantly surprised that my tongue wasn’t hanging out of my mouth as I concentrated on getting the shot.

We petted dogs on the way home. Smoky, who often won’t come when called, ran out to greet us. Neighbor Marla was walking Albert, and Lise got her hands on the dog. Marla and Lise had a chance to chat for a few minutes, extending their friendship from Facebook.

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With the young people around, you never know what is going to happen. Normally grandson David is the one who likes to balance impossible things, but this time it was Nathaniel. We were discussing tomato sauces for spaghetti. He read the list of ingredients on the bottle of pasta sauce and then perched it on his head. I was the nervous one in the room, since I once dropped a large pan of spaghetti sauce in the kitchen. It dripped into the oven, splattered the back door, and pooled on the floor. Thankfully, he put the bottle on the table without incident.

Bubble wrap was lying on the table. Lise, like many others, has a compulsion to pop the bubbles. She shared the wrap with Nathaniel as he shared the footstool with her. Lise was falling asleep while popping away. I knew she was excellent at multi-tasking, but I hadn’t realized she could keep using her fingers while sleeping. Amazing!

We had another round of hilarity when Nathaniel inserted a non-word in the conversation. We learned to listen closely several years ago when he used the word “plowish”. In my opinion, the best one was “quirbles”, a mixing of quirks and foibles. We found out Nathaniel had the reputation of having a wonderful vocabulary in high school. He inserted non-words with confidence, and people accepted them without question. I was not so lucky. Sitting on the floor was a hanging fixture with candles, and I called it a chandelabra (chandelier and candelabra). When I hesitated, Nathaniel pounced on it and fell out laughing. His latest word was “sarcastical”. Of course we teased him, and he pretended to writhe in agony.

He said, “Now you’re going to tease me for every mistake I make.”

We said, “No, we won’t. Keep on making up new words all the time, and we won’t be able to remember them all.”

There is nothing like a warm, supportive family. (I am being sarcastical.)