My oldest son and I were playing outside yesterday, enjoying the sun and it not being 100 degrees outside – though the humidity was crazy. Here in Colorado we whine if humidity goes over 30%. We’re playing with his new Quidditch goals and pool noodle wickets, kicking a giant red ball around the back yard while I am lugging the baby around (he’s laughing through most of this, except for when the red ball flies away. Distance from the red ball is not his favorite thing). It was genuinely fun.
During the festivities I ran into a pine cone covered in peanut butter and bird seed dangling from a low hanging branch of the tree in our backyard.
I was confused. A little hurt, but mostly confused. Why was a pine cone covered in peanut butter and birdseed dangling from a low hanging branch of the tree in my backyard?
For a moment I feared we were being pranked by some really inventive teenagers in the neighborhood. There was the ever present fear of cultists opting to use the back yard for their peanut butter pine cone birdseed rituals. “Perhaps,” I thought, “the squirrels are getting smarter?” There was nothing about the moment that made sense.
My wife must have recognized my look of utter confusion and took pity on me. “I don’t know if it is birds or squirrels, but the pine cones seem to be well loved. The boys and I made them yesterday and they’re already pretty well consumed,” she explained.
I was very happy they were meant to be there. As soon as she explained it I remember the entire chat and thinking the project sounded like a lot of fun. But sometimes (most times, my wife would likely argue) I forget things.
While my wife was very nice in allowing me to forget this thing we discussed, the first born was less gentle.
“Mom told you, Dad,” he said as he tossed the red ball through a Quidditch hoop.
I think I have lost all rights to the phrase, “Listen to your mother.”
Still, very glad it wasn’t a weird cult thing.