Because of the Covid-19 pandemic, our summer adventures have a unusual feel and demand a revamped routine. There are no daily trips to kids' enrichment camps or courses at our nearby college. There will be no carnival ride wristbands for the Missouri State Fair. No corn dogs or funnel cakes or snow cones either, and no visit to Otto, the talking patrol car. Virtually every event of our typical summer is cancelled or drastically modified.
And that is okay, because we have the lake. With the exception of baby Packee, the kids are just the right ages to enjoy swimming, tubing, fishing, and all the other activities our lake offers. They can walk along the Osage River down at the harbor and venture out across the swinging bridge toward any of several scenic hiking trails there. Before the summer is over, we hope to have a couple new water skiers in the family.
When four to five children between ages eight and thirteen stay with you day and night for a week, this is when the aforementioned record breaking occurs. Among new records established in our household last week were the following:
- Sheer amount of food consumption
- Number of trips to Walmart grocery pickup
- Rolls of toilet paper used
- Number of consecutive late nights spent watching Perry Mason
- Number of consecutive nights Googie sang "Little White Duck" at bedtime (Will I still be doing this when all of them are teenagers?)
- Number of wet towels on the floor of the laundry room
- Loads of laundry washed, dried, and folded
- Number of (very) ripe bananas converted into banana bread in a single evening.
Aided by the uncertainties and negative effects posed by the virus, I seem to have set a couple records of my own. For instance, this is my first post in "Googie's Attic" since March 25, nearly four months ago. That is my longest dry spell since I began the blog in March 2011. Most unforgivable, however, is the fact that Zoomie's eighth and Sooby's thirteenth birthdays scooted by on June 25 and 30 with no acknowledgment. Pa-pa and I were at their house for the celebrations, but I just didn't get around to recording them here. I will do my best to make up for that here and how.
Thirteen, Sooby? How can that be? When I started the blog nine years ago, you were only four. At some point between then and now, you grew into a young lady who plays piano and cello, loves to bake, and is among seventeen finalists qualifying for the Kansas state champion spelling bee next weekend. You are an artistic and creative force to be reckoned with, Sooby, and whatever form eighth grade takes for you this fall, Pa-pa and I are sure you will rock it.
And you, Zoomie. You held the spot as the youngest kid in your family for over seven years, but you have relinquished that position with grace and (most of the time) maturity. You are old enough to entertain us with your jokes and antics, but not too old (yet) to give us some good snuggles. You have mastered the task of dealing with your allergies to dairy and tree nuts like a trooper, accepting that your brothers and sisters can sometimes have treats that you can't. Pa-pa and I can't wait to see what new things you learn in third grade.
Here you are about to open the present you asked me for several months ago. You may be the only eight-year-old in the Midwest to have his own . . . poker set. I imagine that you and your brother Pooh will be practicing the techniques needed to hold 'em, fold 'em, and do a fair amount of bluffing in the process.
As this record-breaking summer of 2020 continues to challenge us at every turn, I am reminded constantly that the closeness of our family makes it bearable. I have only to look at seven little faces to know that, in spite of it all, I am truly blessed.
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