Last Thursday it was Grandparent Playdate afternoon. I think they rode bikes. Grandparent play dates appear to be relatively top secret as we generally get very tight-lipped responses as to what they did from both playdaters and playdatees. I imagine they do things like riding their bikes down slides and eating ten course tasting menus… comprised completely of cookies.
Grandma and Granddad also brought the last remaining vestige of Christmas… presents from Auntie Anlala and Uncle Geoff.
I had recommended one dragon each as the dragon sticker shock is enough to drop a mom dead, right there on the floor of the Los Gatos Toy Soldier Shop. After hours of fruitless eBay and Craig’s List research, it seems plastic dragons are a prized collectible that retain their value and Lord of the Rings fans create elaborate reviews and videos on Amazon describing the quality of dragon paint jobs.
The boys are instantly smitten with their new dragons and they immediately rise to favorite companion status.
Thursday night is also T-ball Verification night at Roundtable which involves handing over a huge check to guarantee your loyalty to snack shack duty with the hope they’ll rip up your check at the end of the season rather than using it to wrap and serve hot dogs. Jake and some kid end up eye-to-eye while I’m in the “prove your identity” line.
“Mom, I know him!”
Me, squinting: “Hudson?” (I really do have a talent for names.)
It seems Jake’s recent BMOC status is only growing around the neighborhood.
We get to the front of the line and the Baseball Mom asks Jacob, “So, you’re ready for t-ball?”
And Jacob confidently answers, “No, I’m here for baseball.”
Looks like James has a lot more work to do around the vocabulary and general aspects of this sport. JJ is 0 for 2 on the baseball lexicon, his first strike being the significance of “Little League.” James is in charge of baseball and I’m in charge of soccer. I’m sure Jake would get at least a B+ on a soccer quiz.
We decide to hit Pizza My Heart for dinner as we’re unconvinced Roundtable has made marked progress on their pizza reengineering campaign.
We get home and we can’t find Nate’s dragons. I’m sure they’re around here somewhere. We probably just can’t see them in the living room explosion. We convince Nate that he can in fact sleep without giant spikey plastic dragons.
The next day James calls my cell phone as I’m arriving to work. “Do you know where Nate’s dragons are? He’s kind of freaking out.”
“Did you check the car?”
“Yes. Did he take them to pizza last night?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Can you check your purse?”
“They’re definitely not in my purse.” Despite everything being in my purse… I’m completely certain I would have noticed a chihuahua-sized plastic dragon as I was shoving in my laptop, iPad, wallet, sunglasses case, keys and phone. He gives up.
That night I get home and go on a find-the-dragons rampage. We’ve had them for one day, they can’t possibly be lost already. These dragons are an investment to be protected and auctioned off in an emergency.
I check everywhere. Every pile of toys, drawer of toys, chest of toys, crate of toys, cabinet of toys. I check in the wall crack of the bunk beds. Under the covers. In the bathroom by the toilet which is the last place I saw Jake’s ice dragon. I check in the dirty laundry basket… having learned from the orange Croc incident of 2011. I check my side of the bed and in the office and in the play kitchen cupboards. I go out and check James’ car again. It’s hopeless. Our favorite brand new dragons have gotten up and flown away. Or fallen out of the car in the dark in the Roundtable parking lot? Both the purple Mama dragon and the baby dragons hatching out of eggs? How likely is that…
I sit down on the toy chest to rest and then my brain clicks into Nate mode.
Remember the shoe incident of November 2012? When Nate’s shoe was lost for five days? And possibly the cutest picture of Nate ever captured? I open the little vintage mail slot door and what do I find? A purple Mama dragon and her babies.
Nate is elated and relieved. When asked why he put his dragons in the mail cupboard and then forgot they were there, he answers, “So wobbers and bad guys can’t take dem.”
Given the price of these bad boys, he may have a point.