Happy Birthday, Brent. When Brent was very little, his nickname was Cubby Bear. And it fit him very well. He was cute and cuddly and fun to have around. When he was six or seven we would play Hangman. He hung me on Cubby Bear and thought it was really funny. Years later, when Sara was about that age, she hung me on “boiled peanuts” and thought it was just as funny. Boiled peanuts were just about at the bottom of my list of favorites and Cubby Bear was just about at the top.
The King was successful once again. Jerry number six is no longer with us. He left the trap in case #6 had kin.
It wasn’t as hot today as the last few days have been. Even with a bit cooler weather, I still didn’t accomplish much. The energy just isn’t back yet.
Tonight, we met Meredith, Hapa, and Joey at Sonic. We were all going to get milkshakes and send Brent a picture of us celebrating his birthday. Well, it was a good idea, but it didn’t work out. We sat a table off to the edge because of the dogs. Max was very excited, but he didn’t know why. (Yesterday was his birthday and he was to have his first ice cream cone.) It took us a very long time to place our order. Meredith kept pushing the red button, but got no response. Finally, she was able to order. And then we waited, and waited, and waited. Others who came after us got their orders, but not us. After an hour, we left. On the way home, Joshua said, “If Lori was here, she would have taken care of them.” We all had a good laugh about that.
Sorry our celebration didn’t work out, Brent. I hope it was the thought that counted.
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