I'm Rich. She's beautiful.
Weston is nearing the end of his mission in Peru. I asked if he was excited to come home, and he said, “No.”
I told him that hurt my feelings a little.
He said, “Papa, when I walk down the street, girls yell, ‘Hey, sexy gringo!'”
…so I said, “Well, I can yell ‘Hey, sexy gringo!’ when you walk down the street here?”
So, the question is, when we pick him up from the airport, do we make a banner that says, “Welcome home, sexy gringo!”
“I don’t know what your music is. You like all types of music, but you also hate all types of music.”
Weston, talking about my taste in music.
Nonessential surgeries have been backed up due to COVID-19, so Claire was waiting for over two months. Maybe an hour after I brought her home from the hospital, Weston was complaining that his side hurt. His doctor uncle came by to see Claire and to drop off all of his non-vegan food. He looked at Weston and said that we should probably take him to the ER. When the ER doctor poked Weston’s right side, Weston screamed and folded in half. The doctor looked at me with a mischievous smile and kept poking Weston’s appendix. Weston’s reaction tapered off, and, eventually the doctor got bored and said, “Yeah, now you know it’s coming.” They took him in for an ultrasound, and asked if I wanted to go with them. I said that I wanted to see if it was a boy or a girl.
Luckily, the surgery went well. His surgeon was great. One of the more entertaining parts was hearing him describe when Weston can play basketball again. He said, after a week, he could bounce the ball a little and do some spinny things.
After a week (and five months of COVID shutdown) he insists he’s ready to go back to school.
The boys wanted to earn some extra cash to support their basketball habit. (We still don’t know if it should be one word or two.)
When Weston was young, his room had glass doors. He was so young that we didn’t think he would mind the lack of privacy. As he got older, he started to mind a little more. We later updated his room and got some new furniture. The only problem was that now his dresser was right by the window. We also never got around to getting new blinds for his window. So, he had glass doors, and the easiest place to change was right next to a window with no blinds. (I realize how bad this all looks now.)
Around this same time, Weston would often dream about being in the NBA. We were talking about how much fun it would be. I told him that Damian Lillard’s mom lived with him not too far from where we lived. I told him that his getting into the NBA was my retirement plan, and that Claire and I would come live with him when we were old. Weston got a mischievous grin on his face and described our room as having all glass walls and NO BLINDS. I told him that was fine. At that age, I think he’ll care more than I will.
We were on a family vacation in Moab, Utah. We went to Pasta Jay’s for dinner. I noticed one of the entrees was called “Roman Orgy.” Sure enough, Weston ordered the Roman Orgy but pronounced it “orgee” rather than “orjee.” The server smiled. Claire and I smiled. After the meal, Weston asked what the name meant. We had to tell him. Thanks a lot, Pasta Jay’s.
Harper: Papa, can we watch a movie?
Rich: Let’s go swimming.
Harper: OK, but swimming doesn’t mean just sitting in the hot tub, listening to Adele.
Rich: OK, let’s just watch something, then.
Conrad was coming up with his own jokes. One of them involved a house and various people involved with the house. He told us about a gardener working in the garden, a cook in the kitchen, and…a carpenter installing carpet. I asked him why the carpenter was installing carpet. He said because that’s what they do. We then explained the difference between a carpenter and a carpeter. (I don’t remember the punchline to the joke.)
When Conrad was about two, like a lot of kids, he always added voiceover as he was playing with his action figures. Unlike most kids, he would separate the story into chapters. I don’t know if he ever got beyond chapter one, but there was always a chapter one—and it was usually the same. In his most dramatic voice, he would say, “Chapter One: The Case of Batman Dies!” After that, the story would vary. One story line went as follows:
Chapter One: The Case of Batman Dies!
He had one drop of blood!
Then he fell, and the blood went back into his body.
Oh, the drama!
Conrad was having an exceptionally good basketball game and was nailing every shot. Literally every shot. I didn’t know the man sitting next to me, and he didn’t know I was Conrad’s dad. He noticed Conrad and muttered to himself, “Wow, that kid has a good arm.” By the end of the game, Conrad had made every shot except one free-throw.
At the end of the game, Conrad walked up to me and was excited to point out that he had made every shot. I congratulated him, but I did point out that he missed a free throw. (I always tell him that you don’t miss free throws or lay-ups.) The man sitting next to me, now realizing that I was Conrad’s dad, looked at me with wide eyes that seemed to say, “Wow, you are harsh.”