My wife apologized for me missing my graduation, as I often do I asked what kind of monster am I? Why did she do that? I had not expressed discontent or anger had I? She was genuinely contrite but without reason, no one had done anything wrong. The source of her remorse was the occasion of my graduation. Years in the works, we were very excited to celebrate with a small cheesecake and a modest dinner at a recently redone local eatery.
We had originally planned to road trip in a rented RV to Hays for the commencement and hooding ceremony taking our time in a Griswald-esque adventure. We had even planned a route to ensure we would see at least half the giant rubber-band balls or other museums of anomalies along the way. As he is prone to do, God intervened again.
K.B. appeared on the scene with a due date that mysteriously coincided with commencement. He would only be a few days old and so there was no way to be able to make the trip. Nor was I willing to make the trip alone and who would care to do such a thing? I may have made a bigger deal of it than I should have, budgeting $1,800 to make the trip and lamenting my failure to attend my undergraduate commencement and failure to graduate from high school all together. I had not planned to seek a Doctorate and so this was to be my last chance to actually participate in a graduation.
The school sent the hood and gown in the mail so I put it on and we took some pictures in the backyard so the neighbors, two of whom are professors, would not snicker at the spectacle. Somehow I thought I might be too embarrassed to seek to join their circle of professors at Gettysburg University if they witnessed our quaint commencement ceremony plan B in our yard.
Fortunately they don’t follow this blog so I’ll post the hilarious result here once I download them. I told my dear wife not to worry, and told her not to let mother’s day be hijacked by my ridiculous desire to commemorate an insignificant personal achievement. It was a great mother’s day weekend, she enjoyed her gifts, thoughtfully chosen of course, and I was sure that all the activities with the family for both Saturday and Sunday were new things we had not done before. The best part was the hunt for the three bear’s house.
Lately I’ve worked the Goldilocks and the three bears into the night time reading regime for the tots. Our daughter Panda is especially fond of the three bears. So on Sunday we went on a picnic in the forest. The great thing about living in a national park boundary is there are great places to do this all around you. We stopped in town for cold cut sandwiches at the Devil’s Den Deli and in no time at all were at a favorite south battlefield picnic ground. Being a good dad who loves setting up a gag, I had scouted the location and knew that only a few dozen yards away from the picnic site was a small house that looked like the three bears place in our book.
It was actually a rest stop along a quiet back road of the park.
After we enjoyed a leisurely lunch I told the kids I had a surprise for them; we were going to see if the three bears were home. I can’t remember the last time their eyes lit up like that. My wife didn’t think much of it until she saw the house at the end of a small trail. She looked at me with her jaw open in surprise. The kids practically fell over when they saw it too stunned to talk as they stared at what I assured them was the three bear’s house. We coaxed them up to the small building, the children were careful to approach in silent reverence so as not to disturb the bears if they were home. We washed up and I loudly complained that it the bears weren’t home and we’d have to look for them again. My wife asked me “did you know that was there?”
Of course I did.
That was the best mother’s day yet. The trick is now the kids want to go look for the bears again. What will they do if we find a bear?
