No patriotic flag waving parade here for LABOR DAY! Nope.
We did have a parade, though.
John and I paraded.
John and I paraded through the kitchen gathering things from the fridge and the pantry. Then we paraded through the countryside through the town of Lapel, and to the outskirts of Pendleton, to share our cheap muffler's exhaust sounds with the bachelor pad residents, "Vroom, vroom!"
It was impromptu.
Rusty's family was camping. Clinton's family was gawking at a car show of vintage vehicles. We had failed to make plans for our typical holiday bbq. Yep, we failed.
So... we popped up out of bed with a wild hair. Sent a cell phone text message to the 3 bachelors, Calvin, Spencer, and Ian. Ian rents off Spencer, Calvin was rousted from his house to join them.
"Don't eat!"
In case you didn't know, today is a holiday Monday, and at 7 in the morning. knowing they wouldn't be up and yawning yet, we texted, "Don't eat!"
Half hour later, one someone texted back, "Huh?"
We replied in cyber type, "U got egs?"
Half hour later, another someone texted back, "Huh?"
"U got egs?"
"Nope."
Minutes go by, "When you coming?"
We were sitting in their driveway texting, "Now.".
It weren't gonna be your typical family get-together, peoples. John and I bagged up eggs, bacon, sausages, bread, milk, pancake mix with 2 kinds of syrup (maple and peach), my coffee, and enough bananas. We barged in on the bachelors to fry omelettes, toast toast, and otherwise fix them breakfast. They were warned.
We let our glasspack exhaust pipes do the announcing, "Vroom, vroom!"
Still, when we knocked on the door, no one came. The lights were on. Remember, this is 7 in the morning, still dark out. Looking through the picture window, no body's are visible. No one appeared, no one came.
So, what do we do? Hey, we're parents. We've got two armloads apiece of heavy equipment like a griddle, and groceries. We've been "around the block a time or two", right? We are not standing out here while they lallygag in there.
We went to the back door.
Sure enough it was unlocked.
It led into the garage.
Then we opened the garage door which opens into the kitchen and, "Voila!" we're in!
Uh...and...ut oh.
We might be in, but, Ian's wigged out!
His eyes are big, his chest is puffed out, his shoulders are up, and his arms are in defense mode! He's ready to fight!
We laughed and laughed. "What'dya think? We texted the three of you. We couldn't get in the front door. You've got it locked. Isn't it usually unlocked?"
Here came Spencer.
Together they tell the story of how they've had some scares. How unknown people have been leaving them strange text messages so for a few weeks now they've been locking their doors. They even have alert sounds on their windows. How did we discover that? Well, later on, John used the restroom and opened the window in there.
"Dad! Did you open the window?"
"Yah, I did. How'd you know?"
Then Ian asks "How'd you get in, Mom?"
"Through the back door in the garage."
He and Spencer exchange looks. I can hear the silent conversation between them:
"You hear that? They got in from the back? We didn't think to put an alarm on the garage door. Are we gonna leave it like that or are we gonna make some adjustments? I don't know, Bud. I guess we'd better fix it. Yah, ya think!"
Ian leans against the door frame between the kitchen and hallway. For a few seconds he holds his right hand over his heart.
I asked, "You okay?"
"Yah, my heart's racing fast. I just knocked on the bathroom door. Spencer's taking a shower and I told him someone's in the garage. And then, there you are!"
He takes a breath, "You guys scared the crap out of me!"
It's all good.
The food's good, too.
I made a full-sized griddle omelette of eggs, tomatoes, sausages, and cheese, cut it into 5 sections, then popped bread into the toaster. John and Spencer shared frying up the bacon. Ian made the pancakes. Calvin arrived just in time to get the coffee going 'round.
Then it was back to parading.
They all paraded into the living room, found a spot on one of the couches, and settled into napping. It's that food coma, ya know.
John sinks into food coma-land and quotes his dad, "I'm checking my eyelids for pin holes."
It's probably the correct way to celebrate a Labor Day, wouldn't ya say?
"Mom! I love you but sit down! And next time, KNOCK!"
"We did."
"Knock louder."
I stepped outside to throw garbage into their trash tote. I heard a click.
Sure enough, someone had gotten up out of their sunken black leather couch cushion to lock me out, again!
Durn. Sigh. They haven't learned. Back to the back.
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