A couple of weeks ago, the boy, Hamlet, and I went to my mom and stepdad’s (Steve) house to wash the boy’s Jeep. We go to their house because they have a driveway, a hose, and plenty of space to maneuver, none of which are the case at our apartment complex. Hamlet and I mostly sat around and told Mike which spots were still dirty. Scratch that. I bopped around taking pictures with my cell phone, while occasionally soaping, scrubbing, or applying tire cleaner but mostly telling Mike when he missed a spot. Hamlet just laid around and enjoyed being outdoors.
At first Hamlet seemed mildly interested in Mike washing the car.
But he quickly got bored.
I also quickly got bored so started posing Hamlet in my hat.
Then Hamlet spotted the woodpecker that made its home in the tree in the front yard, much to Steve’s delight and my mom’s chagrin.
Hamlet heard some rustling in the grass, found a Garter snake (non-poisonous for anyone not in the know), and chased it into the bush.
Hamlet waited for a looooooong time for the snake to reappear. From time to time he’d think he heard the snake and would pounce once again but never found him. Then he decided that all that snake chasing gave him snake cooties and he must get rid of them.
By this time my mom (a.k.a. Grammy) and Steve (a.k.a. Grandad) had returned home from their errands. Hamlet and I went inside with them and while Hamlet enjoyed gratuitous attention from his grandparents, I enjoyed homemade iced tea and sparkling conversation with my mom. Then about 15.5 hours later Mike was done washing, waxing, sparkling, buffing, and loving his Jeep so we could go home. (Just kidding, Mike, you did a great job on the Jeep and I hope I can convince you to wash and wax my Subaru next.)