Howdy,
Why do I write so much, so often, about my kids?
Sometimes I wonder, ponder that question myself.
All the same, get this, though. Hilariousness from the backseat. That’s one of the reasons why the kids; they’re riotous.
So, yesterday, we Hawes 5 were traveling back from a Mother’s Day weekend with my mom in Mariposa — rolling away from a Mother’s Day breakfast for an hour and half drive to a Mother’s Day lunch. Both were nice and delicious and left me un-hungry.
As we came into Turlock I went to the radio for a bit of a tease for the Mother in our car (who turned down a Mom’s Day dinner on the grounds that we’d hit the restaurants around for one day). I spun the dial in search of hard rock, dubious hip hop, or whatever we could crank deliriously: and even found a road-apple’s worth of sappy, ridiculous country—something dumb about a Flatliner. Truly a song to stop the heart. Bonus.
Anyway, I achieved my aim: Jasper and Ti bobbling heads and Sarah shaking hers.
Encouraged, I amplified the volume. Thumping down Monte Vista, we cruised “University Way” like college students and the gas station’s village jerk.
The boys played along beautifully—until … Sarah and I heard from the back, Jasper yelling over the speakers’ booming, “Doesn’t anyone care about Riah?”
He’s a little young for college apparently: according to Jasper.
I don’t know. Riah’s only eleven months, but I saw him keep beat with his bottle, tapping his carseat’s rim. Alternating sides.
Like Grandma—with her real wooden sticks—used to do on the steering wheel … At stop lights? (Mariposa still really doesn’t have any of those … hmm?)
Something else my brothers may enjoy: “Play it long, play it loud, Johann …!” (Bryan Dern, Adventures in Odyssey).
And my deepest apologies to Bethany Dillon.
—Billy
Rocking. Writing. Living.
Word Count: 117,211 / On Pace: 116,050 / Year’s Goal: 200,000
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