bumbling bees order July 4th take-out on pine-cone slide
“Do you see those chandeliers swaying, Nazy?” I asked as we walked past a Turkish lamp store on the way to the movie theatre.
“So?”
“So, that must mean that the T-Rex has gotten loose and is..”
“Dan!”
“Or, it could mean that we’re experiencing an earthquake.”
It was, of course, the latter. Fortunately, the quake’s epicenter was 200 miles away. Neither Nazy nor I felt either of the week’s two large quakes. However, it’s clear that had the epicenter been closer to our home, there would have been a mess. Now we’re talking with a handyman about fastening bookshelves to the walls and replacing ‘nails’ with earthquake-certified picture hangers. I noticed that some of the pictures on the walls had ‘moved’ while we were out. (As you can see, young Azelle, interested in eating, was unfazed by the ‘devastation’ behind her.)
Azelle is not only earthquake resistant, she is ten months old, able to stand up by herself, enjoy the swing and (almost) walk.
Arrow, meanwhile, is..
“… almost three, Dan!” he exclaimed. “I’m a big boy now.”
“Yes, you certainly are,” I replied.
While I was driving Arrow and Tiger home from school, Tiger was expounding (at length) about the traffic lights and vagaries of the English language. His voice even alerted Siri, the Australian-accented, iPhone AI.
“I’m afraid I can’t do that right now, Dan,” Siri interjected.
“Do what?” Tiger and I shouted simultaneously.
“Hey Guys! I want to talk too.” Arrow interrupted.
“Arrow, we’re talking to Siri,” Tiger said.
“I want to talk too. Dan.”
“Talk Arrow,” I replied.
“That’s the donut..”
“YES ARROW,” Tiger interrupted. “We know. It is the donut shop. It’s closed now.”
“I want to play with my bubble machine,” Arrow replied.
Later I took Arrow to the backyard to play on the slide. Shunning the ladder, he likes to climb up the slide while carrying a handful of pine cones. He sends the pinecones down the slide and then..
“3-2-1! Blastoff!” He shouts as he launches himself. He is a very active little boy who really, really wants to do everything Tiger does — except maybe in the swimming class. Arrow loves the water, he’s just a bit skeptical about the classes. While Tiger is doing the swimming strokes (backstroke, crawl, butterfly) and jumping into the water, Arrow has mastered floating on his back.
“He’s two years younger than Tiger,” Nazy pointed out.
On the 4th of July, Melika and Tom took the boys to dinner and a fireworks show. Nazy and I planned to watch the fireworks from Melika’s deck while we took care of Azelle. We decided to order take-out from Zaytoon, a local Lebanese Restaurant..
“… Christiane says it’s really a Syrian Restaurant,” Nazy interrupts.
“She would know,” I reply.
My call to Zaytoon was intercepted by a very annoying voice mail system which kept reminding me that I could order takeout on-line. It quickly became clear that I’d never make contact with a human being, so I hung up and ordered on-line. Almost instantly, I received a txt message and an email thanking me for my order and reminding me to pick up the food at 7:00PM.
Nazy and I put the sleeping baby in the car and drove into town. I got a ‘pick up your food reminder’ while we were en route. We arrived, but:
“Zaytoon is closed, Nazy.” I moaned.
“But they said..”
“… they said our food was ready. They sent me a txt and an email. More to the point, they charged me for the food. That’s ..”
“ … annoying?” Nazy interrupted.
“Well, ‘annoying’ isn’t exactly the word I’d use,” I replied.
We drove to the nearby Benchmark restaurant; I waited in the car with sleeping Azelle while Nazy ordered and picked up dinner. During the wait, the sleeping baby woke up.
“They told me it would have been faster if we had just ordered on-line,” Nazy noted when she returned to the car.
“I wish I’d thought of that,” I replied.
Since Zaytoon’s telephone system was designed to prevent communication, we drove to the restaurant the next day to demand a refund. They were embarrassed and not only promised a refund (which has not yet hit the account), they also said that they’d ‘take care of us’ on our next visit. That evening, at 7:00PM, I got a txt message:
“Your pickup order at Zaytoon is ready for pickup.”
“A day late,” Nazy commented.
“And a couple of dollars short,” I thought.
During our trip to New England, the Adams Family participated in a show and tell at the boys’ pre-school: they brought some bees …
“… and a bee suit,” Melika explained. Tiger demonstrated.
Aside: A (non-Adams Family) bee stung Arrow later that day. And, a few days later, a bee, somehow stuck inside Tiger’s bee suit, stung him on the ankle. Tiger was understanding..
“.. he didn’t want to sting me, Dan. He dies when he stings.”
“I’m glad I’m not a bee,” I replied.
And, finally, an observation on the head of the GOP:
“He is a soft, breathless, foam-boned inheritance baby with a brain like a wet saltine cracker because he has been crippled and made monstrous by money and endless permission and, therefore, cannot conceive of there being any truth or morality beyond what he wants right now.”
— The Internet
For last week's letter, please click here
Azelle in the swing