Dead Fish and Other Anomalies of Life

All week long, Ryan has been excited at the prospect of going back to Muncie this weekend to see his Rope Fish. Apparently the children's father obtained a 50-gallon aquarium, and the children were both allowed to have a fish. Robin got a Silver Molly, and Ryan got a Rope Fish, which he talked about every day. Then, too, Ry was looking forward to going to a party at a "farm" that their father's fiancee's daughter's daddy lives on. (Whew! That's a mouthful. Don't know how else to describe that situation. Also, I think the "farm" is a commune, of sorts, which is why I put it in quotes.) The children have spent some time there with Wednesday (that's the fiancee's daughter's name), so they like it. Party! Party! Party! Unfortunately, all of the excitement was for naught. When Meg delivered the kids to Muncie tonight, Ryan wanted to show her his fish but was told, flatly, "It died. Robin, yours did, too. Fish die." Ack! And when Ryan asked about going to the party, he was told that they weren't going to be doing that. Double ack! Meg said Ryan didn't cry, but she was worried about him. I wish Nathan or Kendra had called to tell him about the fish so he wouldn't have been hit so hard with the reality when he got there. Ryan doesn't usually take disappointment well...

I put out an SOS call to my friend "Big Ryan" about damage control here. (See previous post.) God bless him...he came over today, and within 30 minutes, had everything fixed on my list! Disposer was unjammed; Robin's nightlight was fixed; the toybox lid was glued and tightened. In fact, it took longer to get the Elmer's glue out of the bottle than to do all of the repairs! As he was leaving, Robin--dripping from being in the neighbor's kiddie pool--asked if her light was fixed. I said, "Yes...and you can say 'thank you' and give him a big ol' wet hug." She did!

A note here about "Big Ryan". (The children call him that to distinguish him from "Little Ryan"--my grandson.) Ryan built his home with his own hands, so he knows a lot about how things work and can generally do repairs better and cheaper than anyone I could call. (And, btw, finding "handymen" for small jobs is no easy task!) He has done a lot of things around here, from replacing the thermocouple on the water heater, to repairing the dryer; installing the disposer, replacing the fence, putting up ceiling fans, cutting down the shrubbery, etc. I mean, I have MANY entries in my home repair journal that show him as the repairman. Meg actually hates it when I call him because she says, "We never call him unless we need something. It isn't fair! He always comes!" No, it isn't, and yes, he does. But his friendship is more than just fixing things. Ryan has a big heart. The first week after Megan and the children appeared on my doorstep over two years ago, Ryan showed up with a box FULL of Matchbox cars for Little Ryan. They had been his (now grown) son's. I have to tell you that those silly cars really saved the day for a confused, then-3-year-old little boy who couldn't figure out why he and Robin and Mommy weren't going home to Muncie. At that time, I didn't have many toys here for full-time children. Little Ryan played endlessly with those 100-or-so cars (in the middle of the living room and all down the hall!), and considered them a great gift. He still plays with them. And so, not to leave Robin out, Big Ryan appeared one day with a home-made dollhouse, complete with furniture. He and his father had made it for his granddaughter years earlier, but she had outgrown it. Robin loved it. Still does. (I would have killed for something that cool when I was a kid!)

So now I am met with a bit of a quandary. I want my grandchildren to understand that they can't trash things just because "Big Ryan" can usually fix them. I want them to get it that we are lucky to have such a good friend...not that things are disposable. It's a fine line to walk.

Meanwhile, back at the ranch, after a rocky beginning to the day, the children and I got by. They played some with Jack, the neighbor boy. They cleaned up their messes in the front of the house. We cashed in a couple of coupons that the kids had earned at school and Cookie Cutters for mini-pizzas from Papa Murphy's for supper. Meg took them to Muncie...and that was the day. The kids will be with their father for a week, returning for Robin's birthday party the day before school starts (really early this year). My Baby Robin will turn 7 on August 6th...my mother's birthday. Meg was 7 the year my mother died. I'm a bit superstitious about that. May God prevent a repeat of that circumstance!

Time for bed. Ciao.