The past few days brought a barrage of social activity to my life, the likes of which I have not seen quite possibly ever.
There were the annual toddler birthday rounds to make. You know, the cake and pull-up mixers. (We're 3 now, we've moved on from diapers.) But separate and apart from those, I managed to socialize with four different friends in three different settings. I had kinda forgotten I even had four friends.
A backyard bash for Nephew Bone kicked off the proceedings Thursday night. My sis rented one of those inflatable water slides. (The business is called Just Add Kidz, by the way. Love that name.)
Now inevitably, whenever you have that many kids together, someone starts trying to show out and go up the slide the wrong way.
And I almost made it once.
I actually think the adults may have enjoyed the slide even more than the kids -- for a little while. Hurling a 38-year-old body down a 20-foot water slide fifty times or so into a little catch net? You do the math. The next day I was sore in places that I'm not sure have ever been sore.
Sunday afternoon, I attended the godson's party. It was held at this place in the mall that has a bouncy castle and slides and other things for kids to play on. Well, I arrived six minutes early -- which is about eleven minutes earlier than I normally arrive -- and didn't recognize anyone.
So I proceeded to the counter where I had a bit of an awkward conversation with the girl there. I asked if this was the right place. She said yes but that they hadn't arrived yet. Then she asked if I had any kids with me, and I said no. But it felt more like, "No, I'm just an adult male with no offspring who enjoys attending kids' birthday parties. Now if you'll excuse me I'm gonna go sit by the wall and try not to look too creepy."
Betwixt and between all that fun, I managed to hang out with the Darryls on Saturday night. We played XBox 360 and shot pool at LJ's, because... that's what 38-year-olds with no offspring do? Or perhaps that's the reason for the no offspring? Hmm, who knows how our lives get to be how they are.
While I wish I had some great new Darryls stories to share, the sad truth is that I do not. Mostly, we spent the evening not making new memories so much as talking about all the old ones. I can easily see the three of us having the exact same conversations with one another in a retirement home in forty years. One can only hope, right?
Oh, before I forget! I would like to close with one final anecdote I thought you would enjoy.
I guess it's been a bit of a struggle for Nephew Bone to learn to say "Uncle Bone." So my sister called me on Friday to inform me that "Nephew Bone has a new name for you."
(Pause for effect.)
(Pause again to allow laughter to subside.)
Me? A Bubba?
I don't think so.
But it was at this point I realized that he could have pretty much called me anything and I would have loved it. And before you get any ideas, Nephew Bone is the ONLY person who shall be able to get away with calling me this.
So anyway, as we're getting off the phone, my sister says, "Say bye Uncle Bone."
And I hear, "Bye, Bub-ba."
I reiterate. The. Only. Person.
"All the wild nights and bar fights, the ditches and blue lights, are a million dark nights gone before..."