This morning on the way to church Eddie was drilling me with early-morning math: What’s the date? When will the pool open? How many days until then? “I wish time would go faster,” he said, hankering for summer. I almost pulled over to have another one of those scripted mom-to-son talks, reminding him to appreciate today for today’s sake. These days I mourn at how the minutes, hours, days, months and even years are zipping along. I was tempted to push him to understand what no 7-year-old possibly could.
Instead I just smirked and told him someday he’d eat his words: Don’t wish away this spectacularly bright, blossom-filled spring day–let’s have some fun. (After applying sunscreen.)
Not so much later, this afternoon, after a water-balloon fight, some playtime with the neighbor’s ridiculously cute puppy and a predictably long card game of war in the backyard, it was time to make supper. I poked through the crisper for what to cook for dinner and called an audible. Even though we had leftover BBQ from last night’s Derby get-together, the impulse was too strong not to grill.
I cast aside the rubber-banded stalks of asparagus. My peak asparagus cravings were weeks ago. Lettuce, some leftover pancetta, peppadews I’d intended for a pizza and blue cheese plus a couple of shell steaks called to me: a salad sprung to mind. I am weird. But it happened.
Then I was too impatient to clean the grill. It is a gas grill; I am too impatient to fire-start. I was too impatient to wait for John to change the two-miles-left-till-empty tank to a full one. I was too impatient, even, to wait for him and Joe to get home from their paintball adventure.
The smoke billowed from the grill, flareups to the sky it seemed, and the steaks sizzled Central Casting-style when they hit the grate. In my effort to do better, be better, lean in, I experimented with Periscope, thinking I could shoot live video on how to make grill marks. It was disastrous but I felt brave for giving it a shot–my phone shut down midstream as the granddaddy-old grill gave off Dante-inspired rings of heat. Even if the phone had powered through, holding it, trying to speak smartly, and attempting to do steak quarter turns all at once was too much at once.
No matter: Tongs in hand and being out back grilling felt almost like summer. This made me so happy. It also made me realize that Eddie wasn’t the only one on fast-forward. I was, too, and the two of us soon were eating our words, and the beginning of the next season, together.
Secretary of https://midnightpapers.com/ education arne duncan was highly critical of colleges of education in two speeches he gave last fall