We live like kings.

We live like kings.

Sometimes I feel like I live on the set of The Gilmore Girls, and I’m so ok with that. One of our summer traditions is Concert in the Park, which is held along a creek on a couple of community baseball fields, complete with the walking Chick-Fil-A cow, funnel cakes, homemade dog treats, and a jumpy castle. And since it didn’t work with our schedule to take the boys to that carnival a couple of weeks ago, we lived it up at this month’s CITP.

We packed a picnic dinner, shoved it into a backpack, hopped back on those bikes of ours loaded with chairs and a picnic blanket, and pedaled down the creek path less than a mile or so to destination Hazel Miller.

The boys had treats, and Holden in particular, had a treat he’s never tasted before: cream soda. Ewan preferred simply to surround himself with all of the options for dinner and plowed through each container, sampling and tossing what didn’t suit.

We had a very somber Holden on this night, not quite sure if he was too cool or just not in the right mood, but boy oh boy did he show us some ‘tude for a while just kicking back and checking out the scene. He melts me. Growing up so fast, but hanging on to being little with that balloon tied to his wrist. Slow down, please.

But then the wiggles took over. While Ewan tried to wrestle balloons from the air, I caught Holden dancing a funky jig over to my right, complete with grass stuck to his butt.

And then Ewan stuck his hat back on his head and boogied himself, clapping as hard as he could for the bluesy Ms. Miller.

And I couldn’t help it. I had to scoop him up and love him up a bit while I could still catch him. But I think I must have messed up his cabbage patch because he doesn’t look as happy as he did before.

Oh well. We’ve already started a savings account for their therapy bills as they get older. I should go ahead and give him lots of baggage to unload on down the road.

Things started to make a bit more sense a few minutes later, however. The blessed love of Holden’s life showed up just a few blankets down and it was all over for him.

He’s just not quite sure what do about this lovely sprite at the moment, but she’s got quite the hold on his heart. And who could resist her with those freckles and maniac smile?

So while Holden was trying to keep his heart in his chest, Ewan high-tailed it over to that can of cream soda that he had been trying to steal all evening long.

Why must I wonder that these boys are so sticky at the end of the day?

Regardless, it was amid preschooler songs of “I love my Daddy” while being lofted up high,

That we looked to the west to see this.

It was then that my friend and neighbor exclaimed…

We live like kings.

And we do. We have friends like these who share fine cheese and tomatoes and conversation and beers out of a picnic basket in the middle of a baseball field listening to fine music while lounging on blankets.

You may now refer to me as King Mary.

My scepter is most likely a toilet bowl brush and my crown made of folded newspaper and finger paint, but I rule. We rule. Our neighborhood and town rule.

And Hank the family sherpa rules most of all. The vintage cruiser bike got a workout this weekend, especially tonight. He carried the picnic backpack, three chairs, a picnic blanket, and two balloons all the way home and uphill. Seriously.

I should totally give you my toilet bowl brush, King Sherpa Hank. I love you.

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  1. Hank

    we may be kings, but I am afraid this kingdom is ruled by princes.

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