I'm impressed, we pulled off a BBQ for 30 teenaged boys in oppressive heat, I did errands all day in my infamous van who's A.C. functions at around 5% and still lived to tell the tale. What do referenced teenaged boys bring to a BBQ? Ballpark Franks, liters and liters of soda and heavily flavored Doritos. Except for the boy that brings a stack of steaks, his own salt and pepper, and grills them up for the others who come running when they hear the word steak. This boy knows who he is. He's the object of my new mamma-crush. I want to give him a big hug and tell him what a fine young man he is. The mamma-crush is completely innocent, it only involves baking cookies and spewing embarrassing affirmations. You've got to admire a kid who grills his own meat and eats last, especially one as adorable as this. I've given up on grown-up crushes, so I'll just enjoy my mamma-crushes and get the chocolate chips and flour out.
Considering how many people were over, there is very mild mess left and that I'm leaving to my son. Once it got dark, they came in the house and were jammed in my living room, like clowns in a car and if odor is a tangible thing, when I came in from the porch I walked head on into it. Yes, they'd opened the windows, but didn't notice the storms were still down. Rest assured, the screens are now in place.
I wonder how these ethnic kids feel coming from the south side to the east side, to this big house and lawn. Some definitely seemed intimidated, or maybe just uncomfortable around an adult they didn't know, or maybe it's how I look in particular. I wish I knew how to make them more comfortable, but there really are glaring discrepancies in how different people live and where we travel. I can't begin to put myself in their shoes. My son's school is roughly 95% free lunch. Seriously though, they had a blast it was nice to hear the sounds wafting over to the porch.
Got Jonah to camp this morning rearing to go for silly hat day. He's off with his giant green velvet leprechaun hat, a big grin and a thumbs up. I said "have a good day" and he replied "I'm gonna have a great day." He's lamenting that the camp day is too short, for anyone who knows this child, this is a miracle. And yeah, I kinda wish the camp day were longer too. He comes home and says it feels like it's a whole different day and there's not enough time at camp for all the stuff he wants to do.
I'm hunkered down in my bedroom with the cats and the lone A.C. maxing out and I'm going back to bed. Later today, the serious camp packing begins. And crap, I've gotta find time to go get my shot.