On Monday afternoon, my husband came home from work a little early. It was an unexpected surprise. He did some things that needed done around the house and with the raspberries not on quite yet enough to pick, he and his boys played a bit of hockey. You can see a winning score HERE on youtube. (Or, if I figured it out correctly, the video will be posted at the end of this post.)
The boys LOVE to play hockey with Daddy because Daddy does NOT take it easy on them. He is in it to win it and criers have to sit on the porch. It's humorous to watch every time...and the boys will have the "hockey ice" all set up for him in mere moments if they think there is any chance at all he will play with them.
After dinner, Jake decided to move his Buick that has died.
A bit about THE Buick.
He has had this Buick about 2 weeks shy of four years. He loves the thing. It is unmistakably his pride and joy. About a year ago the muffler fell off and I could - very literally - hear him a mile down the road before he got to the driveway. The Buick also worked as an alarm clock. He would fire it up and then head quickly back into the house because there the boys (ALWAYS S2 even if everyone else slept in) were to give him a kiss and hug goodbye. The Buick has been called a rat trap of a car. He has kept everything he can imagine ever needing in it. Seriously, it's a four door car and only one person can fit in there - tightly. It was his traveling tool box, the place he stored his hammock for two years, the trunk he used for planting...we were afraid to wash it in case the water went thru the rusty doors. I've only ever cleaned the windows in this thing.
The beloved Buick literally rusted through and the back tires are unstable at best.
Never fear, he has already bought a new Buick. A gold old-man-ish one that is silent (that is so odd for us) and meticulously clean. All six of us can fit in it - for now.
He had to move the Buick that the boys believe is as tough as General Lee on the Dukes of Hazzard.
Since there is no possible way it could break anymore...he had the boys load into it and they ran the go cart track that outlines our back seven acres that we grow our garden in.
The Buick is surprisingly tough.
I was on the porch watching them and laughing hysterically.
So they swung by the porch and wondered if a hot moma wanted a ride in the cool Buick.
We bogged through mud, we ran up hills, we screeched to halts in front of the asparagus and all the while the boys were screaming in joy.
We had to scream to be heard over the missing muffler.
(The smell in that Buick? Oh my. There are no words. A man's trashed for four years car filled with four dirty unwashed boys and a big hard working man with all the windows up....on a hot summer day...oh. my. word.)
When they dropped me off at the house, Jake decided to let S1 drive.
The boys were thrilled when S1 made the go cart course and he was literally ready to bust with pride.
Then came S2's turn. He made half the track, but still. Full of pride.
By that point it was getting too dark so they parked it for more fun tomorrow.
Because the Buick is now the coolest toy we own.
And Jake is seriously figuring out a way we could use it like a garden tractor...with seats and a radio.........to be considered the coolest "tractor" ever.
I guess I spoke too soon when I said the Buick died.
Earlier in the evening, Hubby had driven down to the store to get hamburger buns for the BBQ pork sandwiches we were going to eat for dinner and he told me they were the most expensive buns he's ever bought.
Because on his way into the store he and S1 noticed all the fireworks were 75 percent off.
So with the Buick in the background, the boys helped Daddy light off a bunch of fireworks.
When it the last two fireworks were done sparkling (it was our grand finale) and we had clapped and cheered, the boys headed in for baths and bed.
I gave my husband a hug as he was chuckling and headed towards his last few chores and said "Do you realize you just gave the boys one of their most favorite growing up memories today?"
It was a good day.
That average Monday night that turned into the boys BEST day ever.