Monday, May 15, 2017

Um, It's Mother's Day ...

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I'm sitting on the couch listening to songs by The National or that people who like The National might like (think Iron & Wine, The War on Drugs, Bon Iver, The National). I'm also sipping an Old Fashioned and the one that follows this one will be made with ill-gained whiskey.

We were deadlocked at who would cross the bridge to Wisconsin for provisions. It was after 11 p.m. -- not to mention a Sunday night. It was my idea, the whiskey, but he was the one still wearing adult pants with special drying instructions rather than yogurt-stained (1) Abercrombie sweats (2).

Anyway, right before we broke into Rock-Scissors-Paper I just ended it, clear-cut:
"It's still Mother's Day."
This was the second time today I'd flashed this badge and expected to skate past security. The first time it failed. The scene:  a 3 1/2 year old, belly button deep in bubble bath, who dared respond:
"Nuh uh. It's Kids' Day."
I flipped on her in the way that moms of the past, present and future have all/will all respond(ed):
"EVERY DAY IS KIDS' DAY. ALL OF THEM. FOREVER. EXCEPT RIGHT THIS SECOND. THIS SECOND IS MINE. SO YOU WILL LET ME WASH YOUR HAIR WITHOUT FREAKING OUT JUST BECAUSE WATER MIGHT GO IN YOUR EAR. YOU WILL LET ME WASH YOUR HAIR BECAUSE IT IS MOTHER'S DAY."

And that's when I changed my mailing address to Panel Four, 55807 of a For Better or For Worse comic strip.

Anyway, Chuck went for the whiskey -- round trip like 12 minutes max (3). Earlier in the day, I was also gifted a pair of classic checkerboard Vans -- which I've wanted since I was 10 (4). In fact, I wanted them badly enough in 1985-ish to draw a checkerboard pattern on my Keds with Magic Marker. But I was also self-aware enough to know not to wear those knock-offs in public.

It is Day 3 of vacation. Chach and I went to a parade, but it was too cold/windy in Duluth, Minn., to even consider standing next to The Largest Freshwater Urinal in the World. Even though there were people dressed like Famous Smelt from History, a ceremony for Smelt Royalty, stilt walkers (5) and music by the Brass Messengers, we ducked into a Caribou Coffee where I had a London Fog and she ate this weird veggie-fruit-vegan-GF-potentially raw bar (made at a place that processes tree nuts and soy) that clung to her lone front tooth in a disconcerting way (6). Then we went to Target to buy a new Magic Bullet since I wore out the motor on our current Magic Bullet trying to pulp ice cubes.

On Day 2 of vacation we went to a wrestling match at an art museum and on Day 1 of vacation we went from one gorgeous corner of Minnesota to another gorgeous pocket of Minnesota to climb, dangle from, and otherwise parkour over acre-upon-acre of larger-than-life sculptures -- only two shaped like pieces of human anatomy.

FOOTNOTES
1. I don't even eat yogurt.
2. I'm super into A&F again.
3. This is an old stat. We now use a different Superior liquor store, plus there was construction. This round trip was closer to 16 minutes.
4. I always thought this was another "My parents wouldn't let me ..." story. A thing like "wouldn't let me eat sugar cereal" and "wouldn't let me watch MTV" or "The Dukes of Hazard." My mom clarified tonight that she probably just couldn't afford Vans, which makes the story just kind of fizzle into not-a-"I wasn't allowed to" story. Zzzzz.
4. Chach called them "Kilt Walkers." "No, it's 'stilt walkers'," I corrected her. She gave a single snort. "I call them 'kilt-walkers,'" she said.
5. I bought a box at Target. They're like Fruit Rollups. And eventually the glob came off her tooth.




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