I tell enough stories about my brother Ken that I guess I should include a story that he told his son that I don't remember and wouldn't otherwise memorialise here. When Conor got to our house for Easter dinner last night he immediately and excitedly started babbling, "Dad was telling me about the time he was supposed to go to PEI by himself for the first time, when he was thirteen, but he got in trouble over the dune buggy. Remember?"
I didn't remember and asked Conor to remind me.
"Well, Dad said that when he was thirteen, he was promised a trip to PEI by himself for the first time and he was really excited to go. He also said that Pop had a dune buggy that he kept in the back yard, but even though Pop had taught him to drive it, he wasn't allowed to touch it when Pop wasn't around. Remember?"
I do remember this dune buggy: Dad built it out of an old VW Beetle, and the only time I was ever taken for a drive in it, Dad had put it on a trailer and hauled it and us kids to a construction site. This was the new 404 into Toronto long before it opened to the public, and we spent the afternoon driving back and forth on the compacted sand; bouncing around with great hilarity and no seatbelts. Ken would have been thirteen, me twelve, and Kyler ten, and while BOTH of my brothers were taught to drive that day, Dad wouldn't allow me behind the wheel. So, yeah, I remember this dune buggy (with some bitterness) and I nodded at Conor to continue.
"Dad said that one day he took you for a drive in circles in the back yard when no one was home, but the neighbour told on him, and his trip was taken away."
I totally don't remember this at all. Conor continued, "But then Dad did really really good at school, pulled his marks way up, and Nan and Pop allowed him to go on the trip after all."
I don't remember anything about driving around in circles in our tiny back yard (how was that even possible I wonder now?) or Ken going down to PEI without us, and while I get why Ken would want to tell his son a story that has a teaching moment at its heart, I couldn't really understand why Conor was so excited to share it with me (unless it was the schadenfreude at knowing that his Dad got in trouble, too, at the same age as he is now; that's a satisfying feeling, I guess.)
Conor went on to excitedly repeat this story to Granny and Grandpa in the other room, with Ken interjecting his corrections, and back in the kitchen, Ella asked me what Conor was talking about. (Ah, so it was a father-son thing, no girls allowed in on this experience; some things go on and on). I gave Ella a brief sketch of the story, and for her, I emphasised what I think is the main point: Ken was probably the smartest kid in his class, but never did that well in school. Yet if he wanted to, if he actually tried, nothing was easier for Ken than to pull his marks up and placate our parents.
And speaking of Ella: she was at our house on Friday night with Mallory while I was over at their house, making sure Lolo knew we wanted them to come for Easter dinner. When Lolo asked what she could bring, I thought and then asked if she could do dessert. This is usually Lolo's forte, but I felt bad when she hmmmed and said, "Maybe I could buy something..." I tried to let her off the hook, but she insisted that she'd figure something out.
When Ella eventually came back home as we were leaving, Lolo met her in the hallway and said, "Okay, you can't use fondant, but do you want to make an Easter dessert to bring to Auntie Krista's on Sunday?"
Ella blinked at her Mom for a few seconds and replied drily, "So...can I use fondant?"
I love this weird sense of humour that Ella has -- which her parents blame on my girls' influence, even though it's not quite like theirs to me -- but I can understand why it might be challenging to live with (honestly, it's like nothing is serious to this kid), so I tried not to laugh out loud at this.
And then they showed up yesterday with this delicious carrot cake:
Delicious, beautiful, and surrounded with multi-coloured fondant balls. By the by, one of Ella's feet was stained green by spilled food dye, and if that's one of the reasons why her Mom tried to avoid the use of fondant, Ella won out in the end. And that's my favourite punchline of the day.
