From shoelaces to neckties

Saturday morning. There was definitely excitement in the air, but I took my time getting ready. By the time I came downstairs, Ty was ready to go. What followed was a shopping marathon: new dress shirt, shoes, haircut, the works. Normally, clothes shopping is one of the worst form of punishment for Ty, but there was no complaint whatsoever. In fact, there was active participation. Meanwhile, TJ was at home playing it cool, too, doing yard work as if it was just another Saturday.

We got home around 3:30 p.m. Ty hurriedly took all the shopping bags up to his room and inquired about a tie. Instead, he was invited to do some weeding in the backyard. “There’s plenty of time,” TJ assured me with a smile, so we all settled down to weeding around the vegetable beds and the pear tree. We paused to watch the little frogs’ movements. We joked about using the “kill” function in WoW to eliminate all weeds forever, and explored the possibility of a more natural approach to gardening. Any idea that would alleviate the chore of weeding was up for discussion, and we laughed. I asked every 10 minutes: “What time is it?” Not sure if it was for Ty’s information or mine.

The wind started kicking up just as we dumped the last bucket full of weeds into the bin. Ty ran up to shower (again!) and shave. I started on dinner. It was 5:30 p.m. already. I chopped vegetables while listening for Ty’s movements upstairs and TJ finishing up yard work outside. There are four clocks in the kitchen. I kept checking all of them. 6:00 p.m., the Zojirushi rice cooker beeped. Curry chicken simmered on the stove. Dinner would have to be quick, I thought to myself. 6:30 p.m., we sat around the dinner table and enjoyed a leisurely meal, as if we were trying to see who could stay calm the longest.

Finally, TJ motioned for Ty to follow him upstairs. I stayed in the kitchen with the dishes, knowing my part of the day was done. After what seemed like forever, a dashing young man descended the stairs, all dressed up, grinning ear to ear. I grabbed the camera. Through the lens, I saw TJ hunched over, teaching a little boy to tie his shoes, their heads nearly touching. Click. I watched him showing a small new fisherman how to tie lures by the river, the bills of their baseball caps kept bumping. Click. I saw him helping a skinny kid tie kite strings at the park, their fingers overlapping on the handle of the line set. Click. I blinked and looked again. There he was, leaning forward, helping a young man adjust a necktie. I lowered the camera and just smiled.

(I started this post last Saturday night. It was Ty’s 1st high school homecoming dance. It was a good day.)