B and I took a little trip to see some old friends yesterday. Ryan, one of maybe 5 people from high school I genuinely prize, came up from LA, and we met him at his parents gorgeous Camano Island home. I had big plans to snap many a-photo of my son in the arms of these much beloved (and rarely seen) people. Somehow I managed to take a grand total of 2 pictures featuring just one much beloved (and perpetually seen) person. B was in a veritable wonderland. Give the child rocks and water and he's golden, add a partner in crime, and it's rapture. Ryan, who may be a distant descendant of Peter Pan, not only skipped stones and heaved boulders into the Sound to the glee of his audience, but proved himself expert in the areas of Duplo building, wrestling, pillow fighting and slapstick pratfalls. The squeals and guffaws coming from my serious, shy son were such a rare delight I couldn't bring myself to mind my chopped liver status.
Lynn and Jim treated us to a toothsome salmon dinner with green beans and this ridiculous caramelized onion and sweet potato thing that I went all wild rumpus on. Oh god, so delicious. I conversed, consumed, imbibed, beheld, conversed some more, and treated myself to a general sense of anachronism. It's been nearly a calendar decade (and psychological lifetimes) since I became a regular at their house, but it could have been last week judging by the warmth and ease of the visit. It was wonderful. They are wonderful. Of course I'm hoping not quite so much time passes between this visit and the next, but there's a great levity in knowing that, should it be years, we will pick up right where the Taco Sunday era left off.
If you guys are reading this, thanks for such a fantastic evening, not that I've ever had anything but fantastic with you. I have all the love in the world for you, and now so does B. In fact he pointed to my car out the window and asked if we could "go to Ryan and his mom's and his dad's house right now. No Mama! Right Now!" Maybe not right now, but I hope soon.
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