Tuesday through Friday

Despite appearances, I did not bleed to death Monday night. I just didn’t have a night to myself to sit down and write. So, a recap.

The garage door hook was decommissioned. Blaine came by Tuesday night and secured the door with a zip tie. He wanted to remove the hook but I asked him to leave it until I know the zip tie will last a while. He returned Wednesday night with a roll of white tape (matches the paint color) and wrapped the heck out of the end of the hook until it looked like a tiny boxing glove on a skinny arm. It won’t puncture (or snag) anything ever again.

While he wrapped tape, I leaned against the trunk of my car and head butted with the neighbor’s cat who had joined us. I felt silly, not because I was bumping heads with a cat but because Blaine was doing something I could have taken care of so easily. When we were texting Monday night I told him he didn’t need to bother with this. Somehow a small accident had turned into The Great Bloody Hook Incident of 2018. He said he didn’t mind, so I let it happen per Eve’s advice.

“You do nice work,” I told him. “Thank you.”

“You’re very welcome.”

“Have a lot of experience using zip ties and electrical tape in creative ways?”

I watched him try not to smile. Crinkles at the corner of his eyes betrayed him. He looked at me and winked. That made me laugh. He reached over my shoulder and stroked the cat’s back. She began pacing, letting her tail brush across my neck on turns. She’s my favorite neighbor by far.

“One of these days I’ll figure out something nice I can do for you,” I promised, pushing away from the car. No idea what that might be. In the meantime I made us dinner, homemade chicken enchiladas Tuesday night and BLTs last night. The BLTs turned out to be educational. Blaine learned that I won’t eat lettuce on sandwiches, and I learned that in Blaine’s world there is no acceptable substitute for real bacon. “This isn’t terrible,” he allowed, referring to the turkey bacon he was piling on the bread for his second sandwich.

At work on Thursday we had to say goodbye to a coworker, our office manager Marianne. She and her husband are moving to the other side of the state. A group of us took her to lunch. Midway through the meal I looked around the large table and was struck by how lucky I am to work with such wonderful people.

After work I went to Mica’s to hang out with the little white dog while she went to dinner with her sister-in-law. He didn’t need the company but I don’t get to spend much time with him anymore.

The big news in his world is the nextdoor neighbor is taking care of a relative’s dog for a few days. The little white dog is obsessed. The visiting dog couldn’t be less interested. Much barking, crying and whining accompany every visit to the backyard.

It’s also cicada season, which the little white dog views as snack season. He paws them up from the ground and munches like they’re a delicacy. I finally had to pick him up and carry him inside to get him to stop. This is why I like small dogs--portability.

On Friday Blaine and I went to Allison and Ty’s for dinner. Blaine is a little more serious when he’s in Dad mode, and boy can Allison fluster him when she teases him, especially about me. She earned the Dad Look once, I noticed. She noticed too and said sorry. Parent-child relationships evolve but never really change.

Eli and I spent some time together before dinner. He wanted to show me his playset, one of the elaborate wooden ones. His has an observation tower, clubhouse, ripple slide, glider, regular swing and a rock climbing wall. He invited me to use the slide and swings if I wanted but advised me to stay off the climbing wall. “It’s dangerous if you don’t know what you’re doing.”

He showed me how everything worked. I took a moment to scrutinize it. “You know, you could have your own triathlon.” That required an explanation. Without dwelling on the traditional sports, we talked it over and decided Eli’s Triathlon would consist of five pushes on the swing, three trips down the slide and two trips up the climbing wall, ending at the observation tower. He was on board immediately. I used my phone to keep track of his time. He grew more dramatic with each round, having to pause once to put his hands on his needs and pretend to pour water over his neck before he could continue to the climbing wall.

I’m a huge believer in the power of imagination, especially for kids who don’t have siblings and need to entertain themselves. From what I can tell, Eli has a good imagination but isn’t sure how to tap into it. Before we were called into dinner we talked about how the playset could also be a spaceship. How the observation tower is the main compartment, the slide gets you to the engine room (clubhouse), the swing is for spacewalks (because it’s sort of like you’re floating). Over dinner he told everyone about his spaceship. I was gratified.

Later in the evening Ty took Eli off for his bath, leaving Allison, Blaine and I to talk. Allison asked about my family. She asked at what age I lost my parents. She and I were close in age when she lost her mom and I lost my dad. I had a feeling she wanted to talk about that a bit. I opened the door by saying that losing dad was particularly hard because of the stage of life I was in. I was in my early twenties, had just moved out on my own and was in that adjustment period between relying on asking dad what I should do and wanting to make all decisions independently. When I lost him, I lost my safety net. Everything got harder.

“Yes!” Allison said. “Going forward without a safety net is exactly how it felt.” She acknowledged she has Blaine.

He offered, “Moms and dads have different expertise.”

“Yes,” she and I agreed together.

It was a conversation that continued until Eli ran out in his pajamas clutching two picture books to his chest. He wanted grandpa to read to him, so Blaine followed him back to his bedroom. I don’t know where Ty went. He didn’t reappear until Blaine came back and we were about to leave.

There’s a bit more I want to note about the evening, but I have no more time left right now. I need to be out the door in 40 minutes and haven’t showered yet. I’ll put this much up now and, hopefully, will have time to write more tonight.