Single-Handedly Entertaining the World

At some point when I was in middle or high school, my sisters and/or I needed physical(s) for school and into the doctor's office piled our crew.  I can only imagine the dread that poor doctor felt walking into our loud room. Well, it quickly disappeared into a genuine smile. Without being obtrusive and preventing what needed to be done from getting done, we thoroughly enjoyed ourselves. A joke here and there, a fit of laughter now and again, and the room was full of smiles.

“He wishes he could be a fly on the wall in our house,” Mom said about the doctor as we walked out to the car. Of course, we asked how she could tell. She explained the authentic smile and the twinkle in his amused eyes.

Since Mom mentioned that, I’ve seen the same smile and shimmer in the eyes of other people. A store clerk here; a passer-by there. Last week I saw it on the neighbors sitting on their pier.

The five of us had gone for an hour and a half boat ride where we chased bald eagles, spied on turtles, and stirred up wake with our pontoon boat. The ride had to come to a close as our stomachs growled in hunger, so we brought the boat in for lunch. A light breeze glided across the lake and we came in too far away from our pier to dock on the first try. Mom leapt off but couldn’t grab the boat and pull it in manually.

Dad backed up and we tried again. We’d been teasing him that for four days he brought the boat in perfectly on the first try but on days five and six he started to lose his touch.

On the second try, Mom grabbed the bow and almost fell into the water between the boat the pier. I might add that by now we were all rolling in laughter. Laura leapt onto pier but failed to grab the stern. The bow was all but tied down while the stern tried to sail of to sea again. Which, of course, was amusing because normally the stern, the part of the boat that steers, is easy to control while it’s the bow that misbehaves. Well, we decided coming in stern towards the lake wasn’t going to work, so (with the bow still tied down) we swung the boat around and successfully parked bow-out. Problem: the propeller was digging in the sand. They untied the bow and Dad, Christina, and I went back out in the lake and spun the boat around.

On try three, we crashed into the pier head-on. Oops. Try four we couldn’t grab hands with Mom and Laura. Dad offered up a fishing pole for extra length but we decided that wasn’t the best idea. Try five and all of our energy stretching between the boat and the pier as we held onto each other for dear life, we finally successfully docked the boat without throwing anyone into “the drink."

That’s when we realized our problem: this was an alcohol-free boating experience. Every other time when Dad docked, he had already downed a beer or two. No one fell into the drink, but Dad needed a drink. From their pier and in between uncontrolled burst of laughter the neighbors offered Dad a beer.

It’s no wonder we have a tendency to be the loudest people everywhere we go: we enjoy ourselves. We’re not going to let a little breeze stop of us from an amusing boat ride!

<>< Katie

Are you going to pass me or not?

I enjoy people watching. You never know when you're going to see something that's worth using in a story (or blog).

Yesterday we were dumped with snow which made for some great people-watching as I drove around town today. The snowplow shimming around the corner to push the snow further and further off the road. The woman using all of her strength in vain to push the snow blower up her driveway caked with at least a foot of snow. The father (brother?) who lead his young son down the street with a sled ready to take advantage of this blizzard. My favorite, however, was the van that drove behind me through downtown.

He appeared out of nowhere and was not content to drive behind me. On days where the roads are properly plowed and there are no parked cars, this road has a left lane and a right lane. Much to Mr. Impatient's dismay, today was not one of those days. I drove in the left lane, the cleared lane. The problem was that he couldn't pass me on the left due to the no-passing zone (and the minor detail of oncoming traffic). Instead, he opted to pass me on the right. He'd move over into the half-plowed right land and prepare to make a move when all of the sudden directly in front of him was a displaced snowbank or a parked school bus or the mailman. Every time, he'd slow down and sadly return to his place behind me and I'd smile.

That sucks, I thought to myself with a little laughter inside. Not going to lie, I was amused by his poor luck and repeated failed attempts to get around me.

Eventually we made it to a stop light and he pulled up next to me. The light turned green and the race began. I know better than to drag race especially downtown, but I couldn't help myself. This van had been trying to get around me for at least a mile and I wasn't about to let him to it now! A few blocks there was a string of parked cars, and I was going to make it to them first because then Mr. Impatient in the right lane was going to have to return to his position behind Miss Always-Drive-The-Speed-Limit-Katie in the left lane.

Mr. Impatient doesn't drive the speed limit. He won. But only because I let him. Playtime was over.

<>< Katie