Wither Summer?

It’s been a while since I put anything up here. I have a half-written essay about taking Peter to the Brewers game a week ago, but I couldn’t post it at the time because Peter (clever little lad that he is) had managed to switch off the wireless card to Mommy’s laptop. At first we figured it must have been the internal card dying because it just suddenly went kaput, but after letting Peter’s Mom go to the Local Best buy to get a new card, I figured I’d just poke around with the laptop to make sure there wasn’t an another issue involved. Sure enough, Peter had managed to complete a 2-key action (fn + F2) to turn off the card and I switched it back on the same way. I’m sure if we had asked him to fix it he could have done so and saved us all the trouble. It sucks that he’s already more technologically savvy than me but I’m still changing his diaper.

 

Anyhow, we took Peter to the Wednesday afternoon game last week to see observe the Brewers late-season collapse in person. Peter did have a good time, but so exciting are these Brewers now that they sent Peter into a 3-inning nap, waking up in time for the Sausage Race (the hot dog won, just as I told Peter it would. I am sure Peter thought much more highly of his father following that bold prognostication). The Brewers won the game, or more accurately at this point, didn’t lose. When the game was over and we were bundling up our stuff under the grandstand, one of the ushers came up to us and, totally out of the blue, declared that Peter “gets first place for cuteness.” Maybe he was a voter in the radio contest back in April?

 

In other news, Peter got sick the other night (Tuesday, I think). His mom said that he had napped a lot during the day, and round about dinner time he was pretty sluggish. He wanted to play with his basketball hoop (usually he’ll dunk the ball, give it to me to shoot it from farther away, chase it after I miss, and get very pepped up and loud), but he was doing a good imitation of an achy old guy which isn’t one of his usual routines. When I was helping him with his dinner I noticed that he sighed a lot and wouldn’t eat much. Sure enough, his head felt a little warm. Not hot, but warmer than usual – although his head does heat up when he plays hard, his playing before dinner was mostly inert, so I knew it wasn’t that. His mother took him upstairs and tried to get him to sleep, but even in his sickness he wasn’t having any of it. So he sat on the lap of either of his parents until 8:30 or so until we could get him down for the night. The next morning I went to work worrying that he’s got something, but with no idea what that was. His mom called me at work later in the morning with the news that he was back to normal, except he wasn’t interested in eating. That changed by the time dinner came around, when he was his usual robust powder keg of exploding toddlericity (go ahead and spell-check that all you like).