Okay, today is the day we make a scarecrow. Not just any old scarecrow, but a Halloween scarecrow that will be one of many on the lawn of the local museum. Considering I've never in my life made a scarecrow, I have a feeling this will look more like a sad crow. But, we'll give it the old college try.
We signed up to make this scarecrow back in early September. It seemed like a great way to spend the afternoon. But about a week or so ago, we got a flier for yet another activity we can do today, called "Touch a Truck." This is where the town lines up all it's taxpayer-provided vehicles, and lets the kids climb on them.
We did this last year, and the most memorable truck is that which carries the garbage. Although empty, a vomit-inducing aroma still wafted through the cab. Mmmm, enticing. The cab has a window that looks right into the garbage part of the garbage truck. I'm not sure I would really want to have that view when the truck is in action, y'know? Who knows what could come squishing out of a Hefty bag when 50 tons of pressure is being applied.
But my son is wild for trucks of all kinds (little boy law), so we'll be heading over to touch some trucks this afternoon. After the scare/sadcrow event.
I actually forgot we had these two things lined up until this morning. It was a busy weekend. On Friday, I went with Ryan on a class trip to a zoo. We got there via a school bus that somehow passed inspection despite a lack of shocks. After we arrived, and while I was waiting to overcome my intense nausea, we went to the "educational center," which housed snakes, turtles and other rank-smelling things. The signs posted on the door said, "no food or drink," but they forgot to add "And no oxygen." Mike, either the very smart one or the "less interested in being in the finer moments of our child's happy memories" one, drove separately to the zoo, stayed outside the "educational center" to talk sports with another doting dad, and then drove home early to meet the washing machine repairman. Loser.
Then on Friday afternoon, one of our friends hosted a "happy hour." Which was more like happy "hours." By 10 p.m., the kids were camped out in our hosts' garage watching Jurassic Park, and us desperate-for-fun parents were dancing on the deck to radio disco, and pogo-sticking around the driveway. I should amend that: those who could MAINTAIN a bounce were pogo-ing. It's amazing how alcohol + age + decreased mobility = sad display. Actually, it equalled "very sad display." And, when the "very sad" level is reached, that's when the subtle snickering turns to outright mocking. Which leads to, "Hey, let me try!" And the process repeats itself among the adults until the kids step in to stop the insanity. It was great.
Then yesterday, my folks came down for a visit. Their first in a while, since we go up to their house all summer. Obviously, THEY have a pool and we don't. Our yard is small and pool-less, they have acres of land and a pool. The choice is clear. So, since they hadn't seen the house for a couple months, I felt it was a good time to break out the lawn mower, as well as indoor cleaning supplies. Of course, my son needed to have a friend over in the midst of this. Mike and Cara were out at Cara's Saturday morning activities. So, before I knew it, it was the afternoon, and they were here. We had a great visit wherein pizza, donuts, soda and salty snacks were consumed. They left, Ryan passed out on the couch for a bit, and then we went for Indian food at about 7:30. Nothing like lamb roganjosh on top of junk food for a gastrointestinal free-for-all.
During dinner, we were tossing around the idea of going to a movie today, trying to decide which movie, etc. And then this morning--like a bolt from the blue--I remembered the scarecrow making. See, it all comes back to me. I have a mind like a steel trap--that's rusty with corrosion.
--Catherine Schetting Salfino