It's late July and I'm sitting here on my backyard deck -- full from dinner, tired from a long day of work, and slightly bewildered by the things that go thru Sylvain's 14-year-old male mind. The three of us enjoyed a good dinner of chicken enchiladas and refried beans Chuck made for dinner. Afterwards, we hung out and talked; I pulled out my Flat Feet socks and continued working on the gusset. Sylvain soon excused himself, picked up his dinner dishes, and headed back inside (probably to watch some TV). Chuck and I talked some more about whether to go for an evening walk around the 'hood, when I noticed Sylvain was standing at the dining room window making faces at us. That was all fine and funny. But, for some reason, he looked over and saw Chuck's stand of beloved orchids and decided to grab them by the planter tray, and shake them over his head like a winner with a trophy.
It was one of those slow-motion moments where you see the flowering orchid quake in response to its rude trip into the air and the bare orchid tip onto its side, spewing dirt onto Sylvain and the floor. If you will, just imagine the "oh shit!" look on Sylvain's face the moment it dawned on him that what he was doing was not a good idea.
Amazingly, Chuck remained seated and it was I who rushed out of my chair and into the house. I had a tirade ready to unleash when I came through the kitchen door, but just couldn't get it out. "Why?!?" I asked. "What were you thinking?!? Do you know how delicate those plants are?"
Looking like a sad puppy and covered in dirt from the shoulders up, Sylvain looked at the floor and mumbled "I didn't know."
"Well, clean this mess up, but go outside and shake yourself off first....make sure you go into the frontyard," I quietly replied. Following him out the kitchen door, I returned to my seat on the deck and told Chuck that the plants were okay, but there was a little bit of a mess in the dining room. From there, we watched Sylvain clean up through the dining room windows. Hopefully, he'll think twice when another hare-brained idea comes to mind. Or not.
UPDATE:. It has barely been an hour since I posted this entry and, yet, Sylvain was ready to tempt fate yet again. While doing the evening dishes, I heard him walk up behind me and could feel the swish in the air as he was tossing something rather large overhead in the air. I turned just in time to see that his current victim was a honeydew melon that was sitting on the counter. I reminded him that the melon wasn't likely to bounce if it hit our slate tile kitchen floor.
It's going to be one of those nights, isn't it?!?
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