You wouldn’t think it, but sometimes coming up with your post title can be the hardest part of writing. This one just came to me and I had to jump over here before I forgot it. It was a perfect day. Rudy’s baby sister, her kids,mom and what was surely enough people to fill a football field. All coming out of one tiny little mini van.
I had a rough couple of days where I could hardly get out of bed, my shoulders and upper back were so painful and one day I didn’t even bother, I’m ashamed to say. I got a good night’s sleep and seemed to have broken the cycle. Good thing because for the second week, I think in a row we were planning a barbeque with Rudy’s family and some cool friends. Rudy’s ex-wife came by with Little Rudy, and his beautiful woman who just happens to be carrying our grandson. We already told Little Rudy not to argue with her about anything because as long as she was pregnant we were going to be on her side.
Rudy cooked probably 15 lbs of assorted meats. We roasted some lovely sweet corn. Rudy aquired a water cooler and filled it with Gatorade. I think we’re the only ones in the neighborhood serving Gatorade on tap. I wonder how much it would cost to fill with a good quality vodka. I did more than usual, but I really didn’t have to do too much. Plastic cups. paper plates, burgers, chips, and everybody brings stuff. Kids going back and forth in the lake and somehow I find 5 teenage girls dying their hair pink and purple in the bathroom. It was worth every grain of sand tracked through the house.
We ended up in front of the fire in the front yard telling stories and laughing until our faces hurt. Our best friend came back from Georgia and surprised us in the front yard. I told all the kids to put all things food related into the house, and yes I had to tell them twice. I needn’t have bothered I think there might have been a piece of gristle left.
Lisa and Rudy’s mom went home with her crew and it was just Rudy, me and Kevin in the front yard and Kevin mentioned that we hadn’t done this in a long time, I think the last time was a couple of years ago when our dog, Ziggy a half rat half jack, bitchy terrier came home with a neighbor’s chicken in her mouth. This, when I had just that day gotten in an argument with said neighbor, assuring him that my dog would never steal his chickens. I’m reminded of something a good friend used to say. “It just doesn’t get any better than this.” I can still faintly taste the sweet sweet summer strawberries on my lips as I’m writing this. He was right. Best. Day. Ever.