It just so happened that Patrons’ Day – the school’s celebration of Edmund Rice and Saint Damien – fell on Boys’ Day this year. I didn’t have work and decided I would not waste the day by sleeping in and/or doing housework. I stand by that decision, I really do.
I had to get up early to take Madison to school. Since I didn’t have anywhere to be, I ate breakfast with her in the cafeteria. They served whole grain pancakes with a bunch of diced pears. I appreciate the school system’s attempt to make meals healthier, but man, those pancakes were cardboardian. To make matters worst, the only three drink options were 2% milk, skim milk (I think), and chocolate milk. I can’t drink any of those unless I want to spend the day playing Pokemon on the toilet. So the pears were actually the item that moistened my mouth.
I love seeing how independent Madison is at school. She schooled me about how to stand in the breakfast line, where my trash went, and when it was acceptable for her to go to her classroom. I dropped her off at class without incident and she wished me a happy Boys’ Day.
I took a tour of the North Shore and brought the waterproof camera to Sharks Cover again. I love Madison, but having her around is like having a pet on a leash – only I’m the one on the leash. She never lets me go too far from her, and she insists that I “be careful” if I go underwater because “I know you can’t swim, dad.” Her concern is heartwarming, but it also prevents me from doing Phil things like taking advantage of the shallow water to snap pictures of aquatic life like this. Lynnette and I already have already decided to purchase the snorkel set from Costco at some point during the summer so that we can really tourist out. I don’t know how to broach the conversation about a GoPro, but I assume that Lynnette will simply tell me “Maybe for your Yakudoshi,” like she has for just about anything I’ve show interest in over the last 11 years. Maybe I can go the “It’ll be my birthday/Christmas/Father’s Day/Valentine’s Day present” route like she did when she tricked me into Abby.
I finally serviced the Corolla yesterday and to call it “overdue” would be disrespectful to the term. According to the man who worked on my car, I had basically no oil in the engine and a litany of other problems with the car. I told myself I would get around to it after the baseball season and I did. This is me, patting myself on the back while taking a lot of money out of my wallet. So now, no blinking lights on the display, now rattling and angry shaking at the stop light.
We celebrated Cinco de Mayo/Patrons’ Day/Boys Day with a feast of taco salad. I was on my second plate of Lynnette’s lovely dinner when my phone banged out a text message chime. My phone was across the room and it happened so fast that I can’t tell you my exact thought process, but I think it began with a simple Who’s texting me? That’s when I realized that it was Monday AND HOLY HELL I HAVE A SOFTBALL GAME AT 6! Maybe being off made me think it was Sunday? I don’t know. I looked at the microwave and it read 5:18. I’m usually at the field by that point. I literally shoveled the last of my taco salad into my mouth with one chip, then ate the chip. I gathered my softball clothes and went to the bathroom to partake in a pre-game catharsis. That’s when I got the follow-up text: Rain. Games Cancelled. Eventually, my heart rate would fall back to normal.
Since Lynnette and I have expended all of the New Girl episodes on Netflix, we’d been looking for a new show to binge watch together. Lynnette can get caught up in hype very easily and she explained that many of her friends posted about Scandal on their Facebook walls. I didn’t know anything about Scandal – other than Kerry Washington – before the first episode, but I was stunned to learn that Shonda Rhimes is the lead creative behind the show. That didn’t exactly instill me with confidence considering my experience with Grey’s Anatomy, which I stopped watching as soon as it became apparent that Rhimes was trying to see how many people who worked at Seattle Grace could hook up with each other without an STD outbreak and/or the fanbase rejecting it completely.
I started out only intermittently paying it attention. I busied myself with more important matters like leveling up my Pokemon team and catching them all. Eventually, the stories got so preposterous that they roped me in. I am delighted to learn that the President of the United States is played by the bad guy from Ghost. I am also thrilled that the cast – both recurring and guest stars – are a who’s who of Lost and Grey’s Anatomy alums. I get to play my favorite game – Where do I know him/her from? – during every episode.
I think we watched three episodes last night. It’s so hard to tell, they all just bleed together at a point. “ONE MORE! ONE MORE! ONE MORE!” I started chanting. “No! I have to go to sleep!” Lynnette said. “It’s not an hour, closer to 40 minutes. No commercials, remember?” I pleaded. “No!” she said. I slugged my way to her side of the bed and wrapped my arms around her waist. “ONE MORE! ONE MORE! ONE MORE!” I chanted while squeezing embracing her lovingly. “No!” she said. Where she found the will power, I don’t know.