Mom and dad are still on the mainland so our usual Sunday activities were slightly altered. Generally, my parents spend the morning making lunch while Matty and I are playing in our softball game. Paul is in his room catching up on a week of tv that lawyering prevented him from watching live. Obviously, no one was home to make lunch today, so we all went out to eat.
The first thing I saw when I got out of the car in the parking lot was Paul. I was shocked. He never, ever comes out to our games, but there he was. I didn’t tell him, but I suspect it was so that he would have feel responsible for sitting at home during the game and not cooking or making something. I wouldn’t have held it against him, anyway. I
can’t won’t cook for 6 people, either. Paul, Matty, and I are together outside of my parents’ house so rarely that I felt moved to take this picture to commemorate the moment. Thanks for ruining the it, daughter.
After winning a game that neither Matty nor I really contributed to, we decided to take a chance and go to Kuru Kuru. To my shock (slightly less than seeing Paul at the park), we only waited for 30 minutes or so. Matty, Tanya, Paul, Lynnette, Madison, and I filled a booth, then painstakingly filled our tummies. I was almost at my edge when someone mentioned dessert at Coffee Or Tea. “What the hell?” I said. “Yeah, sorry, we decided that outside while we were waiting,” Paul said. All I knew about the place was that it was another of those popular milk tea places that have been popping up all over the island. It’s this decade’s frozen yogurt. Anyway, when I got there, there was a picture menu on the door and I saw something with shave ice, pineapple jelly, strawberry something, and ice cream. “Ooooohhhhhh!” I said, rubbing my tummy at the same time. I had already started mentally preparing myself for the bad choice I was about to make.
I held up four fingers (like I was a member of the Four Horsemen with Flair and the Andersons) to tell her my order. Um, it was bigger than I thought. I had to enlist the aid of my daughter and brother to finish it. All I know is thank God Matty was there. I can eat, but Jesus, Matty can eat. He also doesn’t have a better judgement about it. He might be full, but it’s like his moral obligation to eat it if it’s put in front of him. God bless him.
I passed out in the car on the way home. I got out of the car, carried my stuff up the stairs, dropped it in the living room, stripped down to my boxers, then passed out in my bed. When I woke up, I went for a short walk with Madison and Abby. Lynnette was making shoyu chicken for dinner that I had no intention of eating, but I just ate two pieces. I don’t know what tomorrow – the first true day of weekday summer – will bring, but I hope it doesn’t involve eating. I feel terrible. It’s a muggy 80-something degrees in my house right now, and I feel as if a mixture of sweat and food oils is seeping out of my pores. This might explain Abby’s proclivity for licking my leg right now. Makes sense.