The Diner

“Mom, here you go,” said the youngest.
My eyes registered a June tan covered only by blue and white Spiderman boxer briefs race by my position on the couch. A single piece of paper torn from a spiral notebook drifted on to the Sunday School lesson I was studying.

Mom
You are invied to come for
Sam and
Isaac’s Dinner

Dad got one too; except he got a 25¢ off coupon seeing as tomorrow was Father’s Day.

After a short while, I heard my husband’s footsteps coming up from the basement. I put my book down and headed in the same direction.

When we reached the boys’ room, the door was shut. We dutifully knocked and were told, “Just a minute.” Soon after, the door opened and we walked inside.

On the floor in front of us was a pillow paradise. Tom Chapin was singing softly in the background and a blue 2 ring binder was lying in front of us. The boys were both dressed in
their Sunday suits – one standing by a table of magic tricks and the other behind his toy cash register.

The notebook contained a single piece of paper describing the menu; there was a cheese sandwich, chips, a bagel, and gum. Everything was 50¢ except for water, which was free.

Never mind that it was 10:00 a.m., we both ordered a bagel and some water. While one boy prepared our meal, the other treated us to a brief exposition of his talents in slight of hand.

We received our meal – served on Chinette paper plates – from in between the spaces of my
youngest’s bunk bed ladder. Sitting inconspicuously to the side was an empty Slim Jim container converted into a tip jar. We paid our bill and tipped in coinage easily divisible by two and took our meal downstairs to enjoy together in front of the TV.

Summer Nights

“So, how was your day?” I asked.
The evening was creeping into our front yard and the boys and I, too restless to sit in the basement in front of the TV, were sitting on the front porch stalking fireflies.
“Good,” said the youngest.
“Are you on level 3 or 4 in swimming?”
“Level 3. I still need to work on my back crawl…Mom, do you see any?”
“Not yet, they were probably scared away by the basketball noises.” (We had just finished a game of P.I.G.) “They’ll be back if we’re quiet. Keep watching.”
“How about you?” I turned to my oldest. “How was swimming today?”
“Great. I talked to my teacher about being a lifeguard. She says I have to do a dead man float for 5 minutes.”
“Wow! How long can you do it now?”
“I can float on my back for 5 minutes. But I need to practice my dead man float still.”
“Mmmmm….Look! I saw one over there!”
A sharp yellow light lit up briefly in the darkness underneath the oak trees. Both boys stood up quickly and ran to it.
“Can you see it?” I said.
“I lost it,” said the oldest.
“Do we have a jar to put it in?” said the youngest.
“Nah, we don’t need a jar,” I said. “Just try to catch it. Make sure you don’t squish it though.”
“There it is!” said the youngest.
His brother spun in the air to look. “Where?”
“I see it! Further into the middle!” I said.
“Look Mom! They’re all over!” said the youngest.

I looked. From my front porch bench, the outlines of my two boys were framed by the rustling black maze of leaves and overhanging branches and the silent, solid trunks of our two grandparent oaks. The boys were tensed, hands positioned in mannequin like poses as they waited for just one firefly to come close enough to catch.

The brave, lone scout that started our hunt had apparently signaled the all clear. Yellow lights were nearly everywhere we looked. It wouldn’t be long now.

“I got one!” said the youngest. “Mom, look! I got one!”
“Me too!” said the oldest.
They rushed back cupping the small, slender bugs that had been snatched out of the night sky by their quick fingers. The first one flew away the minute my youngest opened his hands. My oldest, a more seasoned catcher, watched as his bug crawled slowly over his nail and finger, examining the strange terrain. It stopped as if to test the softness of the strange, new surface. It signaled its findings to its comrades and moved on stopping and signaling three more times. Then slowly, it spread its wings and returned to the darkness.
“Coooool,” the oldest said.
“Way cool,” I answered.

Satisfied, the boys sat back down on the porch snuggling up on both sides of me. We watched the blinking lights and talked about nothing….and everything at the same time.