Boys’ Night

Last night, the fourth grade boys celebrated next week’s start of school with an all-boys’ outdoor movie night. The night was put on as part of an effort to establish some traditions for them that bring them together as a group.

Kickball. Catching up. The third Raiders of the Lost Ark. Pizza. Cupcakes. Brownies. Candy. Popcorn.

With the sun refusing to set, and after some very loud happy play, they sat around the picnic tables talking. One excited crew poured juice on each other’s heads. One head injury ended up in the ER. They are boys, after all.

But as darkness fell, and cool air promising a 10:00 rainstorm blew across the yard, they snuggled up together under their blankets. Two boys huddled in low beach chairs here. Another two in chairs there. Seven or eight in a big pile in the grass like puppies.

Thunder rumbled as the movie ended. The first raindrops fell just as they untangled from the cozy pack and went home.

Their first night out past bedtime.

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That Was Actually Funny, He Said

My teenager and I were sitting on the steps with the dog. It has been a dry winter, and with more than a week of warm February weather, everyone is watering. At our house, the sprinkler needed a quick fix in the yard after it fell off the hose when my son moved it from one spot to another. “I can’t get it back on.”

I was putting my shoes on to help out and hoping the dog poop had been picked up before he had watered the grass. ”If you don’t pick the poop up first, then it’s gross to pick up when the grass is wet.”

“It wasn’t me,” he said. “Dad started it. Blame Dad.”

So, I belted out a little South Park “Blame Canada!”

He chuckled. “Mom, that was actually funny… and surprising.”

“Didn’t think I had any South Park in me, did ya?”